A Study In Survival
by Harleyquinnzelz
Summary: 'When you threw me to the wolves that night, did you think they'd find me easy to swallow' There is no explanation to be found when they find themselves waking up in a strange place, with no memories of who they are or where they're from. With only their names, they must navigate this place for themselves. And for Grace, that might be more difficult than it seems.
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Maze Runner series or any other characters associated with it. However, I do own Grace and any other original characters that might pop up. And similarities to any other works of fanfiction are purely coincidental.**

 **PROLOGUE**

* * *

 **WICKED Memorandum, Date 230.1. 3, Time 8:37**

 **TO: My Associates**

 **FROM: Chancellor Ava Paige**

 **RE: COMMENCEMENT OF THE MAZE TRIALS**

It is with great pride that I am pleased to announce that the beginning of the Maze Trials was an absolute success. All forty subjects have been inserted into the maze where they will spend their next two years under observation. It is through the tireless efforts of our staff that we have reached this point, and I must express my sincerest gratitude to all those who had a hand in this effort. Without their assistance, WICKED would not be where it is today, making great strides towards a blueprint for the cure.

Many of you have expressed concern over the inclusion of A-8 and B-8 at this stage of the trials, but the psychs have assured me that the readings that could result from their presence could be invaluable. Furthermore, should we have to continue the experiments into Phases B and C, they will be absolutely crucial to the success of the experiment.

All test subjects will wake in the morning to find themselves trapped and without any memory which will commence the official start of the experiment. The following morning, the doors to the maze will open for the first time and that is when things should really get interesting. This is, of course, what we have all been waiting for for so long, and with this step, a blueprint for the cure should follow soon after.

Again, I would like to thank all those who had a hand in this effort. These children are the key to our future, and it is our job to make that future possible. As data continues to be processed, I will keep you all informed on the progress of Groups A and B, as well as our strides towards the cure.

Until then, we all must keep in mind the reason that we're doing this. It may weigh heavily on our minds, but it is our responsibility and our burden to bear.


	2. Four Walls and a Roof

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Maze Runner series or any other characters associated with it. However, I do own Grace and any other original characters that might pop up. And similarities to any other works of fanfiction are purely coincidental.**

 **CHAPTER ONE**

" _Their eyes met. It had begun. They had begun."_

Alexandra Potter, _Calling Romeo_

 _This is how it starts._

Her eyes snapped open to see a flawless blue sky above her, not a cloud in sight, the sun lazily making its ascent in the sky. For a moment, she laid there, confused.

 _Where in the hell is she?_

That's the first question that comes to the forefront of her mind as she sits up, furrowing her brow as she takes in her surroundings. She wasn't the only one there, she realized with a start, though she was the only one awake. All around her, boys lay asleep, spread out on their backs. She didn't know who they were, couldn't draw up any information about any of them as she sat, staring. Her absolute ignorance to the situation was mounting, slowly making panic build in her chest. She didn't know where she was or who they were. And the longer she sat there the more she realized that she didn't know anything about herself either.

Except that her name was Grace. Of that, she was absolutely positive. Yet, as she tried to recall where she had come from, she drew a blank. She simply just _did not remember._ Fear seized her heart, and she leapt to her feet, spinning around to examine her surroundings, her mind working a mile a minute.

This place that she didn't know didn't not seem so bad, at least. Lush, green grass was under her feet, and off to her right was a small copse of trees, not huge but still enough that she would qualify it as a forest. Then, somewhere behind her, there was a small shack, the door thrown open invitingly. To her left, there was a barn and she could hear the animal sounds that drifted from it.

"What the hell." She muttered, raising a hand to her head, as if expecting a huge knot to be there to explain away her memory loss. Nothing was drawing up any memories, try hard as she might, straining to remember. But there were none, and she had more important things to worry about, she realized with a start. Like the fact that the nice, peaceful place that she had woken up in was surrounded on all sides by impossibly high stone walls encased in ivy.

A quick glance around proved that there were no obvious ways to leave, no doors with a large 'EXIT' sign shining over it. And the more she looked, the more she realized just how fucked this situation was. And she was just dealing with it on her own instead of demanding the help of those around her who were still sleeping.

 _How strange._

Did they know where they were? Did they know who _she_ was, and more importantly, did they know why she couldn't remember.

Well, there was only one way to find out, and without another thought on the matter, she used her foot to nudge against the nearest boy's foot, hoping to wake him. Actually, they were _all_ boys, she noticed after a moment. And here she was, the only girl in this situation. Hopefully they didn't end up being assholes.

"Hey." She said loudly. "Wake up."

The boy in question had a head of blonde hair and, after a moment of trying to nudge him awake, he finally opened his eyes to peer up at her drowsily.

"Where are we?" She asked immediately. There was a moment of silence as he stared up at her, his eyes still sleep heavy.

And then he realized.

Sitting up with a start he looked around, eyes going wide. "Bloody hell." The words fell from his lips, laced with a strange accent that she could not place, though something in her mind told her that she _should_ be able to.

"I'm going to assume from your reaction that you don't know where we are either." She sighed, shaking her head. He didn't respond for a long moment, looking around before looking up at him again, furrowing his brow in confusion, panic brimming there. Something about him struck something in her, though Grace wasn't quite sure what and so she pushed the feeling away.

"Not a clue." He said finally, getting quickly to his feet. "Don't know who you are, either." He added, fixing her with a look as if hoping she would start spouting off an explanation.

"Grace." She said simply. "That's...well, just about all I know."

"Grace." He repeated the name softly, as if committing it to memory, though she wasn't sure why he would need to. If he was in the same boat as her then it wasn't like he had a whole lot of other things to remember now. "I'm Newt."

"Well, Newt. Let's wake these other guys up, yeah? One of them _has_ to know something, right?"

Dear God, she hoped so. She really, really did.

* * *

None of them knew a single thing, other than their own name. And not all of them were as graceful in their awakening as she and Newt had been. All around her, boys were exploring or crying or talking in small groups. And she could only look around, an increasing sense of hopelessness settling into her stomach.

Where were they? How had they gotten here? Were these boys, these _strangers,_ her friends? Why couldn't she remember who they were? Why couldn't she remember who _she_ was? No childhood memories came to mind, no way to determine just what had led up to the moment she had woken up in this place. She didn't even know how old she was.

In short, she decided, it seemed like they had all been thoroughly fucked.

She had been standing in the center of the place for a long time, circling around, eyes narrowed as she tried to draw up some sort of memory, but none came. Not that she had expected them too really. At first, she had thought that she must have had some sort of accident that led to her amnesia, but with each boy she woke up the more her heart plummeted. Something was definitely going on here.

Finally, growing tired of standing there trying to remember, she decided that she needed to take some action. Because if she didn't, she was afraid that she would fall apart like some of these boys had. So she jogged across the open grass, eyes set on the tall wall before her.

Fingers brushed against cool stone as she walked, looking for any weakness. But the wall was unending and flawless, firm as she pressed her hand against it. There was no give, no weakness in the walls that trapped them there.

 _Or maybe they were protecting them?_

What a silly thought. Grace wasn't sure exactly what could be so bad on the other side that they would need great, towering stone walls to protect them, so she wrote that one off. No, it seemed more as if someone had somehow taken their memories away, dumping them in this place with no explanation.

"Well hell." She muttered, taking a step back and tilting her head to look up at the wall that stretched high up into the sky. Too far to climb, she figured, and even if she did climb it there was no telling if there would be a way to get down once she got to the other side.

She turned again, sighing, pushing a long strand of hair out of her face. She wasn't the only one who had taken to examining the walls, she realized with a start, one of the boys obviously intent on finding a way out as well. There were others too, some attempting to climb the vines, others cheering one of the boys on.

"Hey!" She called before she could stop herself, taking off with a running start in his direction. He had been climbing up the ivy precariously but had started his descent when she had noticed him. He had just dropped the last few feet when she called out, making him look up in surprise as she approached.

"Any luck?" She asked as she reached the group, peering up at the stretch of wall he had just scaled. It looked just the same as the rest.

"Not a bit." He grumbled. "Need to try somewhere else."

She frowned at that, sighing heavily. "It figures, man. Trapped like friggin' rats. I'm Grace." She added, turning back to face him. A lot of the boys had taken to casting her strange looks which she could, admittedly, understand. She _was_ the only girl, after all. "You really think you can find somewhere else to get through the wall or something?"

"I'm Minho." He said simply, turning away to cast a sweeping glance over the rest of the maze. It was obvious that he was the leader of the escape attempt and so, Grace decided it would be better to see what he thought instead of getting the opinion of every other boy gathered with them. Besides, they all _looked_ as lost as she _felt._ "There has to be a way, right? I mean, there has to be something on the other side of these walls."

"So...what, just keep trying?"

"Keep trying." He agreed.

* * *

Three hours later and they were no closer to figuring out a way to escape. Tired and frustrated, Grace stomped over to one of the fires a group of boys had started, flopping down beside it with a huff.

"This is so stupid!"

Despite her better judgement telling her that there just _wasn't_ a way out, she had really tried to find one. Had scoured the stretch of gray stone walls until it had simply become too dark to carry on. In the morning, she planned to resume her search with Minho's help, who seemed just as intent as she did.

"I'm going to assume then that you didn't find a magical means of escape." An accented voice asked from across the fire, catching her attention. That boy, Newt, was seated on the other side.

"Nope. Gonna try again in the morning." With another sigh she reached out to pluck a handful of grass from the ground, tossing the blades into the flames one by one. Her stomach growled loudly, but she didn't have it in her to be embarrassed. She had been so preoccupied trying to find a way to get out that food just hadn't seemed like much of a concern most of the day. Now though...well, she didn't really feel like attempting to sleep on an empty stomach.

"Man, I'm hungry. Is there any food anywhere?"

"Granola bar?"

She looked up to see Minho holding one out to her, chewing on his own, a bottle of water tucked under his arm. He took the empty spot next to her, settling down by the fire, looking just as hopeless as the rest of them.

She accepted it graciously, opening it and taking a huge bite. "Well," she said finally. "At least they're not making us starve. What polite hosts we have." The last part was dripping in sarcasm.

One of the boys looked at her sharply, a frown tugging at his features. "You think someone put us here?" He asked, furrowing her brow.

She snorted, rolling her eyes. "You don't?" She asked. "Think it's just a coincidence, us waking up not being able to remember anything but our names, trapped in this place? Or did we all just have a bit of an accident and simultaneously hit our heads? _Oh!_ Or maybe it was memory sucking aliens."

The last part got a bit of a laugh out of Minho, but the other boy didn't look at all pleased at her withering tone.

"Look, the point is that someone _had_ to put us here. Nothing else even makes sense. And...if those kind folks are listening right about now, A FIVE STAR RESORT WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER!" She yelled the last part, startling most of the boys. Not that Grace particularly cared, she was too busy looking around for any sign that they were being watched.

"Geez, you're loud." Minho grumbled, taking a swig of his water before holding out his bottle to her, offering it wordlessly. The gesture felt strikingly familiar, as if it had happened before, but as Grace reached out to take it she couldn't figure out _why._ It was like there was a memory there, just out of reach. But God, she wanted so badly to grasp at it, just wanted to know _something._

She took a sip, handing it back with a nod of thanks. "Sorry." She said quickly. "Just feeling frustrated."

"We all are." Newt sighed. "Welcome to the club.

"Well," she said cheerily, after a moment. "Things could be worse. Imagine being stuck here _alone._ Or, you know, we could be dead. _"_

"Wow. Do we have that kind of optimism to look forward to, to help get us through the days stuck in this place." Minho rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"Yep. I aim to please." She said matter-of-factly, finishing her granola bar and standing up, stretching her arms high over her head. "I'm going to go... _attempt_ to sleep. Don't let the partying get too loud, boys." And with that she was gone, heading towards to little shack that she assumed was for sleeping. At least she hoped so. To be honest, Grace wasn't even sure that she would be _able_ to sleep. There was just too much going on, and too many thoughts rushing through her brain. What was the point of them all being here?

Nudging the door to the shack open, she stepped inside, peering around. It was too dark to really make out anything, even with the illumination from the fires outside but she wasn't too worried about it. She wasn't exactly sure that she wanted to see the place anyway, worried that it would be dusty and musty and not actually fit to sleep in. Better to be blissfully ignorant, she decided as she picked a patch of floor and settled down on it, stretching out with an arm behind her head.

She wasn't actually sure how long she laid there, staring up at the dark ceiling, but it wasn't long before others started trickling in, laying down as well to attempt to get some sleep. Grace was _exhausted,_ tired physically and mentally from everything that had happened that day, but her mind was moving too fast, trying to comprehend and make sense of _something._ And finally, she just had to accept the fact that, without her memories there was no way to make any sort of sense out of it.

Finally, she fell asleep.

* * *

 _In her dream she is in an unfamiliar forest, the trees stretching high overhead. They have no leaves, she noticed, and the trunks are smooth and white and lifeless. Dead._

 _The ground is void of any life, just dark dirt and pebbles. The air is hot, pressing in on her from all sides, making her pant. Part of this seems familiar, but the other part of her doesn't care, is more concerned about where she is._

 _She catches a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye, but when she looks there is nothing and she can only frown, standing there stupidly._

" _Little girl, all alone in the woods." A voice sings tauntingly, the words echoing around her, sending a chill up her spine. The same voice lets out a giggle that unsettles her even more, and it is enough to send her running, dashing wildly through the trees._

 _From somewhere behind her she hears that giggle again and the sound of someone chasing her. Her heart is pounding wildly in her chest, but she knows that she cannot stop, that she has to keep going. If only she had some idea of where to run to. Adrenaline is what keeps her going, but she knows it won't be enough, can hear whatever is behind her catching up._

 _And then, suddenly she is knocked to the ground, the breath knocked out of her as she lets out a pitiful little cry of fear, as if that will get some unseen hero to come rescue her. But she is not stupid, and she knows that nobody is coming to save her._

 _She hears that giggle from whatever is holding her face down against the ground, and her heart stops as she takes a sharp intake of breath. She can feel hands, strong and unrelenting against her back, pushing her forcefully into the dirt. But she has to see who it is, needs to see the face of her attacker. If this is how she's going to die, she wants them to see her face when they kill her. She struggles to turn, craning her neck to try and see. A wave of stench hits her, like something rotting and she gags, before holding her breath. She sees the hands and arms first, covered in dirt and blood and oozing sores. The hands are thin and bony but she can feel the strength behind them and that's what's worrying her. She could try to wriggle away, but even if she got past those determinedly stubborn hands, she isn't sure that she would even get very far. Her eyes drift up, over the arms to the disgusting shirt the person is wearing, continuing upwards towards the-_

A rumbling sound is what wakes her up, pulling her out of her dream as she bolts upright, wincing slightly. Sleeping on the floor had not been comfortable, but it wasn't as if there had been much of a choice. At least the little shack offered some protection.

She forced herself to her feet, looking around to see that she was the only one who had been asleep.

"Crap!" She had meant to get an early start combing over the walls again. She wasn't sure how late in the morning it was, but Grace wanted as much time to look as possible.

And just what the hell was that rumbling noise.

She darted forward, pushing outside to look around, freezing at what she saw.

Yesterday, she would not have expected this. If she had then she wouldn't have spent her day scouring the walls for a way to escape. But yesterday, much as she would hate to admit it, she had been panicking, and worried about this strange place.

All attempts to escape had seemed hopeless yesterday, and yet _now_ this was happening. And she, like the others, could only look around in awe as a sense of hope welled up in her chest.

 _The damned doors were opening._

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Okay so, I know I** _ **really**_ **shouldn't be starting anything new, but after deciding to put my 'The 100' fanfiction on hiatus I figured why the hell not write something that I have a lot more muse for. And this is what came of that.**

 **Unlike 'Glory & Gore' the chapters will be a lot shorter since they'll be a lot easier to get out quickly that way. And for those of you who can't tell, this story starts with the beginning of the Maze, with Grace being the only **_**current**_ **female member of Group A.**

 **I'm going to try to keep updates as regular as I can, which should be pretty easy since I have all the books on hand for quick references and won't have to scour the internet for scripts and stuff. Anyway, let me know what you guys think, and the next chapter should be up relatively soon.**


	3. The Same Boat

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Maze Runner series or any other characters associated with it. However, I do own Grace and any other original characters that might pop up. And similarities to any other works of fanfiction are purely coincidental.**

 **CHAPTER TWO**

" _Only priests and fools are fearless and I've never been on the best of terms with God."_

Patrick Rothfuss, _The Name of the Wind_

Grace was running towards the crowd of boys gathered in front of the opening doors in seconds, excitement coursing through her. They weren't trapped. They really, really weren't. She skidded to a stop when she reached them, a huge, hopeful grin on her face. The final dregs of her dream faded away, any recollection she had of it fading as well. Details were becoming hazy as it slipped away, and at the moment she couldn't find it in her to care.

"There were doors! Did anyone realize there were doors?" She asked expectantly. When she had examined the walls the day before, they had seemed seamless, not clue that they would just suddenly...open up.

"I had no shucking clue." Minho said, staring at the doors, eyes blazing triumphantly.

 _Shucking?_ She couldn't help but find the word funny, and it was easy to tell what he meant by it but clearly now wasn't the time to ask about it.

Looking at the other boys, she found that not all of them seemed as hopeful as her. In fact, some of them looked terrified, tears streaking down their cheeks. She frowned, turning back to face the doors. They were huge, yes, and pretty intimidating, but not _scary._

After a moment, she started to walk towards them decisively, not stopping to see if any of the others followed her. She paused right in front of them, peering outside and frowning. The walls didn't just surround the space where they had woken up, they continued on outside making long, tall corridors.

"Well that's...disappointing." She wasn't sure what she had expected, but it certainly wasn't this.

"It has to lead somewhere, right?" A voice asked from right behind her, startling her and making her turn to face the owner of the voice. It was Newt, standing there, eyes fixed on the maze. The others were trailing behind, eyes set out beyond the door.

"Let's find out, shall we?" And then, without another word, she took her first step out beyond the doors.

If she had been disappointed when she _saw_ what was out beyond the doors, once she was actually out exploring it, she was even more disappointed. The others were behind her, looks all around and obviously seeing nothing worth mentioning.

Instead of being led to an exit, the walls just continued on, twisting and turning, making her scowl. If these corridors didn't lead anywhere then what was the point of the damned doors opening. With a huff she turned to face the others, looking just as dejected as she felt.

"This is ridiculous." She seethed. "Has anyone seen anything?"

"Walls." Minho offered. "And...hey, more walls."

She glared, telling him clearly that he wasn't helping. "Besides that, I mean. Any indication about where we are. Or why we're here? Because as fun as wandering around aimlessly is, it doesn't seem to be getting us anywhere."

Grace didn't know _who_ she had been before, or even what kind of person that she had been. But she didn't think she could have been very good if they ended up sending her off to this place, with a bunch of _guys._ Why were they here? And why was she here? And why was she the _only_ girl. She had been asking herself these questions since the day before, but she was no closer to having answers for them and it was frustrating to say the least. What in the world had she done to get stuck in this place?

When nobody have anything to say, she groaned, shaking her head. "Whatever." She said huffily. "I'm going back."

This time she didn't wait for them to say anything, only stomped by them, heading back the way they had game, stomping only when something caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Something dark on the wall, different from the monotonous slate gray, but mostly obscured by ivy. "Hey! Guys, come here."

Reaching up, she pushed some of the ivy out of the way, staring intently at the words. The others were around her a moment later, peering up at the words.

"'World In Catastrophe Killzone Experiment Department.'" She read, furrowing her brow. "Anyone know what that mean?" She turned to face them only to be met by similar looks of confusion.

So that was a firm no then.

Sighing, she turned back, releasing the vines. They had found nothing except these words on the wall and even they were no help. She was hungry and tired and frustrated. "Okay." She said finally, stepping away from the wall, through the crowd of boys. "Okay, I'm headed back. Keep exploring, or not. Just let me know if you find anything."

* * *

Most of the food that had been provided for them were simple things, fruits and vegetables and granola bars. She sorted idly through the neat assortment of food, picking out a peach and taking a bite. Curiously enough, they had sent packets of seeds up as well. Just what did these people want from them. With the packets in hand, she turned, looking around once more. There wasn't much in the area, but they had provided them with some things, like the barns for instance and the kitchen where the food had been moved to.

There were supplies too, frying pans and spatulas and seasonings and the look. If they put it here, then it obviously meant that they wanted them to use it.

Could she cook? Grace couldn't remember, but as her gaze shifted over the various cookings supplies she didn't feel any particular draw to use them. And, while the seasonings sounded familiar, she didn't know what to do with them.

"So I'm probably not a cook then." She mused to herself, strolling through the kitchen slowly, biting into her peach. It was soft and sweet, and she couldn't help but hum contentedly.

"Do you typically talk to yourself?"

She turned to find Newt standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking around curiously. She smiled slightly. "I wouldn't remember, would I?"

"No," he agreed, stepping into the room. "I suppose not."

"Find anything interesting?" She asked, earning a frown from him.

"Not a damn thing. The place is like a bloody maze."

She paused, looking at him sharply, furrowing her brows. "A maze?" At first it sounded ridiculous but the more she thought about it, the more sense it made, The walls had twisted and turned, ending in dead ends randomly. And mazes were meant to be solved. So...they just had to find the exit, right?

It all sounded simple enough, but then she glanced down at the seeds in her hand. If they were meant to just...leave, then why would they have supplies here for them. They either didn't have faith in their maze solving abilities, or they didn't actually want them to get out.

"You look like you're thinking hard about something." Newt said, watching her. Grace nodded, holding out the packets of seeds. "Look at those." She said. "They sent them up with the food. If we're meant to just...find the end of the maze then why would they send us things to _grow?"_

Newt took them, flipping through the packets frowning. "I don't...I don't know." He answered honestly, shaking his head. Grace sighed, reaching up to push her hair back, away from her face. "This is just getting more and more confusing."

"We should all...talk together. Try to figure something out." He suggested. "We haven't done that. It might help clear some things up."

"Yeah." Grace couldn't help but snort slightly. "Like each other's names." After a moment though she sighed and nodded. "If nothing else, we can figure out what to do next." Taking another bite of her peach, Grace walked past him, stepping back outside, Newt following close behind.

Most of the boys who had gone into the maze had come back, obviously discouraged. Even Minho, she saw, and she had expected him to stay out there forever, desperately searching for a way out. The boys were breaking off into small groups again or wandering off on their own like they had the day before. "What a chipper bunch we have here." She quipped, before cupping her hands around her mouth. "HEY! GUYS! EVERYONE COME OVER HERE!"

Heads turned as everyone looked in her direction, and from behind her, she heard Newt groan. "You _are_ loud."

"At least I caught everybody's attention." She reasoned. Sure enough, most of the others were heading over in their direction, though some were stubbornly keeping to themselves, watching the gathering group warily.

 _Well screw them. We won't need their help anyway._

"Has everyone looked through the supplies that we have here with us?" She asked. Some of the boys nodded while others shook their head. Turning to Newt, she gestured to the seed packets still in his hand. "Show them." She instructed.

"They sent up seeds." he told them solemnly, fanning them out and holding them up for everyone to see. One of the boys snorted in contempt. "So? Seeds are seeds. Why do we care?"

" _Because,_ if we're meant to just get out, why would they send us things to grow?" She asked, fixing the boy with a glare.

That seemed to be a good question, if the contemplative looks on their faces were anything to go by.

"We were put here for a reason." She continued. "Whoever put us here, obviously either doesn't want us to leave yet or else they don't expect us to be able to."

"So what do we do then?" Minho asked. She was quiet for a moment as she considered this question. She honestly didn't know, and a deeper part of her was certain that none of this would be easy. "We do what we have to." She said finally. "We help each other. We find a way out. We survive."

* * *

Grace did not know who she had been before being tossed into this strange new place, with these boys, but as they all sat around the fire that night, eating some of the food that had been sent up to them, she decided that it didn't matter. It didn't matter who any of them were, or what they had done to get stuck in this place. If none of them could remember, then it was hardly her place to judge them for it anyway. No, the important thing now was how they moved forward, and what kind of people they would become now.

They had all watched, a few hours prior, as the four doors leading into the place slid closed, trapping them in for the night, and leaving them all wondering yet again just what the hell was going. Grace could only hope that they would open again in the morning.

She had ended up sitting between Newt and Minho, staring at the flames as they danced before her. Something about them made her uneasy, but she wasn't quite ready to walk away.

"Why do you think you're the only girl?" Newt asked suddenly, from her right, catching her by surprise. Grace had been asking herself that question a lot too, but none of the other boys had come right out and asked it yet. They all had other things to worry about after all. But nobody had been talking before Newt spoke up, and all eyes were set dead on him now. He didn't look phased though, only kept his brown eyes set ahead on the fire.

"Maybe they confused her for a boy." Minho muttered from beside her, letting out a grunt when she punched him playfully in the side without looking at him.

"I don't know." She answered honestly. "If I try to think of all the reasons why they've done all this I think I might drive myself crazy."

"But I mean...there has to be something different about you. Right?"

"You mean besides my genitalia?" She asked without missing a beat. A chorus of laughter echoed from around the fire and she couldn't help but grin. "Look," she continued. "As far as I'm concerned, we're all in the same boat Newt. I'm gonna worry more about the things that we _can_ do, instead of the things we can't control. I suggest you do the same."

* * *

Like the previous morning, the sound of the doors opening were what pulled Grace from sleep, making her open her eyes and look around bearily. Most of the others had been asleep as well, but the foreign sound of the rumbling doors was enough to rouse most of them. With a yawn, she stood, stretching her arms over her head and wincing slightly.

Sleeping on the ground was giving her a hell of an ache in her back and shoulders and neck. But that, compared to other things, seemed pretty minor, and without so much as a word to the others she started outside, glancing around to make sure that all four doors had opened.

 _Might as well take a look._

Stifling another yawn, she started jogging across the stretch of grass leading to the closest door, peering out into the maze.

"Wait up!"

She turned to see Minho jogging up behind her, Newt and another boy behind him. She blinked, looking at the tall, dark-skinned boy curiously. "This is Alby." Newt explained, gesturing to him. "We're going out as well. Might as well all stick together, yeah."

"Sounds good to me." Grace said with a shrug, before offering Alby a grin. If she remembered right, he had been one of those sulking. "Hi, Alby. I'm Grace."

"Yeah." He said simply, with a nod. "I know. Only girl in the Glade. Not easy to forget."

Grace couldn't help but furrow her brow in confusion. "The Glade? Another one of your weird, made-up words, Minho?" She asked looking at the asian boy for explanation.

"Nah. It's just what Alby calls it." Minho said with a shrug.

"The _Glade_. Hmm… well...it does have a nice ring to it."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE** **: I'm not to wild about this chapter, but I want to get these preliminary things out of the way so that I can start skipping ahead some. It's hard to do character development, when the characters are still getting used to their surroundings. Anyway, this is done and the next chapter should be up soon. Make sure you guys drop a review if you liked it!**


	4. Beside The Dying Fire

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Maze Runner series or any other characters associated with it. However, I do own Grace and any other original characters that might pop up. And similarities to any other works of fanfiction are purely coincidental.**

 **CHAPTER THREE**

" _Dying is easy. Living is hard."_

Gayle Forman, _If I Stay_

They called them runners.

It made sense to call them that, of course, since that is exactly what they were doing, but it was also the most unoriginal name that Grace could remember anything ever being called. Which, in retrospect, wasn't saying much.

It had started out with just Grace and Minho leaving every morning to navigate the corridors of the Maze, with Newt eventually joining them as well, and then two boys named Nick and George who were testing the waters to see if running was something they were even interested in doing. It was taking time, but they were slowly learning the intricacies of the Maze. They had been surprised when they realized that the Maze changed at night, but in the few weeks that they had been trapped there they had begun to notice patterns. There were eight sections of the maze, and each night as the walls shifted, patterns repeated themselves.

Things were hard, but they were slowly gaining control over the situation. Well...as much control as they could have. Tensions could still run pretty high, of course, with many of the Gladers not wanting to be told what to do and many of them not wanting to cater to The Creator's wishes. Grace was the one who had taken to calling them that, and it had caught on fairly quickly with the others.

There were many things in the Glade that she didn't understand. She tried not to overthink it, wanting to focus more on getting out than on what they were doing here and why the creators were so intent on _watching_ them. They had figured that out about a week and a half ago, that the Creators were likely using the little mechanical devices that they had started calling Beetle Blades to spy on them. And no matter how many time Grace tried, she was never fast enough to catch one and kill the damned thing.

Swiping out with her right hand to cut a piece of ivy from the where it was growing up the Maze wall, Grace slowed down to make a note of the way she had just turned before sliding the pen and notepad into her back pocket again.

When they had first started running, they had all stuck together, but there was a lot of Maze to explore and it just didn't make sense to all stay together. Especially since they hadn't come across anything dangerous in the maze. As the newest Gladers to really venture into the mysterious maze, Nick and George were still sticking together, watching each other's back. The other three were slightly more confident in the navigational skills however and tackled their daily running duties on their own.

Taking a quick glance at the digital watch on her wrist, Grace paused for a moment before sighing and finally turning around. She had been running for _hours,_ and it was about time she returned to the Glader, or else risk getting locked inside the Maze all night. While they were all curious about what would happen, nobody wanted to be the dumb shank to volunteer for that particular job.

Grace couldn't help but chuckle slightly, rolling her eyes. Even she had taken to using Minho's strange, made-up slang. Still, spending so much time with the boy it was impossible not to have him rub off on her in some way. She and Minho had easily settled into a comfortable friendship. Of course, the others in the Glade were also doing the same thing, groups of friends forming. Part of Grace wondered if any of these new groups of friends had been enemies in their old life. It seemed like the sort of ironic thing that would happen.

Still, even as she thought about that, she hoped it wouldn't be true. Whenever this was all over, if she ever got her memories back, she hoped that she and Minho had always been friends, or at least that they hadn't known each other before. She didn't want to get close to him over the course of all of this, just to fall out with each other after a couple of memories were restored.

Adjusting her backpack further up her pack, Grace picked up the pace, eager to get back. They were still sorting out jobs, but one boy had already taken over as cook and his hot meals were certainly bettered then hastily eaten fruits or granola bars. He had been among the first to wake up in the Glade, and his name was Ziggy though he insisted on everyone calling him Frypan.

Grace didn't particularly care what he wanted to be called as long as he kept feeding her.

She had attempted cooking once, with disastrous results and the others _begging_ her to never attempt it again. After tasting her creation, Grace had been quick to agree. Besides, she didn't really _want_ to be stuck in the kitchen all day, cooking for the small army of boys. She wanted to be out here, looking for a way out.

Others were not as brave as the runners. In fact, some of them were _scared_ of the Maze, with its shifting walls and huge doors. And while it could seem intimidating, Grace wasn't scared of it. It wasn't alive, and it wasn't trying to kill her so why in the hell would she be scared of it.

No, Grace was far more worried about the people who had put them there. The same people who sent supplied up for them every week and who had sent new boys up in the box for days and days and who watched them with mechanical bugs but offered them no way out.

The last boy had been sent up the day prior, a quiet kid named Zart who had come up in hysterics. Grace hadn't been there when most of the new boys had come up, but she heard all about them later on from Alby.

The sight of the East Door up ahead sent a familiar feeling of relief through her, she was home for the day, and just in time, it seemed after a quick glance at her watch.

She ran through the door, slowing to a stop and stooping over, hands on her knees as she panted. At first, when she had started to run all day in the maze, it had been hell, but Grace had become more accustomed to it over the weeks.

Reaching back to pull out her bottle of water, she finished the rest of it off, her heart still beating rapidly in her chest. She loved running, she had realized that soon after they had started. Not just because she was out there, helping to solve the maze, but also because it was relaxing in a sense. Just her, in the maze, running. During the day, her biggest worry was getting back in time before the door closed.

"Hey shank!" Minho's familiar voice echoed across the Glade, making her look up to see him waving at her from outside the building that they called the Map Room. "Forgetting something."

Rolling her eyes, Grace started off at a leisurely pace towards him, mostly because she knew it would annoy him. "Actually, no." She said. "I'm not forgetting a single thing." She stepped past him into the building with him following a moment later.

"Find anything?" he asked automatically, the same question he had asked everyday since they had started running their sections of the maze solo. "Same thing as yesterday. More walls and ivy." She responded, pulling out her notes and getting a piece of paper and a pencil so she could start her map. "They're real interesting, you know. The others make it back, yet?"

"Yeah, you're the last one. Nick and George made it back pretty early, actually."

Grace couldn't help but scoff, rolling her eyes. "Man, those two are scared of their own shadows in there, huh? Are we sure they've got what it takes to be runners."

"Whether they do or not, we don't exactly have a long list of volunteers." Minho said with a shrug. "Maybe we should split them up, take one each. Might make them a little less likely to come running back here at the sight of their own shadow."

"Whatever man, as long as _you_ get Nick. I saw him picking his nose the other night. It was gross."

"What? Because he was _picking his nose_ you don't want to run with the guy?" Minho couldn't help but laugh. "What, are you afraid he'll flick boogers at you?"

Grace didn't even look up, quickly drawing out her section as she spoke. "Actually I was afraid that he would _eat_ it, but now that you mention it…"

Minho laughed again, making Grace look up with a grin as she finished her map. Banter came easily between the two, something Grace was thankful for. A lot of the guys didn't really know how to deal with her, it seemed, with her being the only girl in the Glade. But Minho didn't treat her like some delicate thing that needed to be protected. Of course, the first time she had lashed out at a boy who suggested she stay in the Glade where it was safe might have had something to do with that.

"Alright," she said, putting the map away. "I'm done. Let's go get some dinner. I'm starved."

"You're always starved. Where do you even put food in that tiny body of yours?"

"I store it away in my cheeks for the winter." She replied without missing a beat. Minho snorted, reaching up to poke her face as they headed outside. "I don't think so. Have you seen your face? You're cheeks would be way fatter."

"Actually, I haven't. Are you saying I have a skinny face?"

"Yeah, like a rat's."

Huffing, Grace aimed a kick at Minho's shin, but he was too fast, swerving out of the way. Grace opened her mouth to say respond snarkily when something caught her attention.

"What the hell is going on over there?"

Minho turned, following her gaze, frowning at what he saw.

Over the past few weeks, they had been discussing expanding the little shack they had been provided with, so that there would be more roof for people to sleep comfortably. While they had been gone during the days running, the boys back in the Glade had started collecting all the spare wood they could, leaning it up against the stone wall in the Northwest section of the Glade. Some boys had even taken to sleeping under it, though Grace still insisted on sleeping in the original shack. Around the makeshift lumber tent, a small group of boys including Newt and Alby were gathered, peering inside worriedly.

"I don't know. Let's go find out." With that, Minho started jogging towards the group, leaving Grace to follow after him, brow furrowed. "Guys," she called, catching Newt's attention. He turned to look at them, his expression worried. "What's going on?"

"It's George." He said as they got there. "He's acting all weird. He's been hidin' in there since he got back from the maze."

"Wait, _what?_ " She asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Did he find something?"

"Whatever it is, if he's hiding in there, it can't be good." Minho pointed out, leaning back to peer inside the makeshift shelter.

"Looks like we're going to have to drag him out." Alby sighed, before reaching in to do just that.

Grace had expected it to be a relatively easy thing to do. George wasn't exactly a big guy after all, but it because fairly obvious that he was putting up a hell of a fight. When Alby let out an angry curse, eyes widening, Newt jumped forward to assist his friend, helping him to drag the other boy out.

If Grace hadn't known that it was George, it would have been a little harder for her to tell. He was all tense, face red and swollen with his eyes bulging from his head. He glared up at Alby, he immediately crouched next to him and punched him.

Grace let out a yelp of surprise, unable to look away as Alby punched him again and again and again. Finally she lurched forward, grabbing Alby's arm before he could punch George again. "That's enough." She said firmly, trying to pull Alby away. With a last glare at George, he allowed her to do so.

"What the hell, Alby?" She asked, looking at him with a furrowed brow. "What was that about? Could you run and find Clint?" She added, looking at Minho who had his eyes set intently on George.

The boy hesitated for a moment, looking like he was going to argue, before sighing and turning to run in the other direction. A sharp moan of pain from George startled her, making her jump slightly as she turned her attention back to him. He was writhing on the ground, face scrunched up in pain.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with him?" Newt shouted. Frowning, Grace took a step closer, crouching down to get a better look at George, making sure to keep just out of reach.

"I told you guys. We were out exploring the maze. He was always ahead of me. I heard all these mechanical sounds and then Georgie screamed. I could barely get him back here." An angry voice snapped, making Grace look up to see that Nick had approached, his glasses sitting perched on the bridge of his nose, eyes blazing angrily.

"Well let's face it, kid looks like he's dying." she said thoughtfully, looking down at George again as she straightened up.

"Shh!" Alby hissed. "You wanna say that louder?"

Grace scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Trying to keep it a secret, Alby? People have already started noticing."

"I didn't want the others to see him. Get everybody spooked. Fat chance of avoiding that now."

"Well it's not _my_ fault. You were the one beating the hell out of him, man." Grace argued

"Yeah! Why _were_ you hitting him in the face?" Nick asked hotly, looking at Alby like he wanted nothing more than to punch him. "He's my friend you know. He needs medical help, not some hothead beating on him."

"He was trying to freaking bite me! Back off!" Alby yelled back, getting right in Nick's face. During their short amount of time in the Glade, Grace had yet to see anybody get so angry, and in the light of George's current predicament annoyance fluttered in her stomach.

She moved forward to step between them, face set in a scowl, but Newt beat her to it. "Boys, slim it. Let's figure this out. What do we do?"

"Minho ran to find Clint." Grace pointed out. "Maybe he'll know what to do."

"Sure," Nick turned his angry gaze on her now. "Clint is so qualified and all."

" _Sorry,_ do you know anything about anything? Clint knows something about taking care of sick and injured people at least. Can you claim the same?"

Among the group of forty that had originally woken up in the Glade, there was a boy named Clint who was quiet but had shown more knowledge than any of the others had had about first aid.

Nick glared before sighing and looking away, his face falling.

"Did you see what attacked him?" Alby asked, his voice softening. If nothing else, it was clear that Nick was taking the whole thing pretty hard. "Saw nothing." Nick replied simply.

"Did George say anything?" Newt asked.

"Well, yeah, I think so. Not sure, but...I think he kept whispering, 'It stung me, it stung me, it stung me…' It was weird, man. He sounded like he was possessed or something. What're we gonna do!"

Grace frowned, furrowing her brow. "And this happened in the maze?" She asked. While the whole thing was horrible, it was the only new thing that had happened since they started exploring the maze. "We've been exploring the maze for _weeks._ Minho said that he's _seen_ something, but he's never been stung. Why has this suddenly happened?"

"Well that's the question, isn't it?" Newt sighed, shaking his head slightly.

"Come on." Alby said, reaching down to seize George's legs. "No use trying to hide this anymore. Let's get him out to the middle of the Glade and gather everybody. See if anyone knows what to do."

"Maybe Clint will-"

"Hey! Whoever sent us here! Send us some medicine. How 'bout a bloody doctor? Better yet, why don't you take us out of this hellhole!"

Newt's sudden outburst startled her, making her jump slightly and turn to see that he was staring straight at one of the Beetle Blades that was nearby.

"Somehow I don't think that they'll be that accommodating." Grace said dryly as she stooped down to grab on to George, who was thrashing so much that she already knew that it would take more than her and Alby to move him. "Do you two mind?" She huffed.

Nick nodded, reaching down to help while Newt glared at the Beetle Blade for a moment longer before reaching to help as well. The four of them had to coordinate steps and they maneuvered George into the center of the Glade, the injured boy moaning loudly, making Grace cringe.

"Set him down over there." Nick tilted his head, gesturing to a bare patch of ground. The group shuffled awkwardly over, with George thrashing wildly, jerking free of Grace's grip. He slumped gracelessly to the ground as the others let him go, and George let out another groan as he hit the ground.

"Well that went well." Reaching up, Grace pushed her hair out of her face, before turning to face the group of boys that had accumulated. Neither Minho nor Clint were among the crowd, she noticed, which didn't bode well for George. He didn't look like he would last much longer with the way his swollen head looked like it was about to burst.

"Listen up!" Nick yelled, the authority in his voice completely taking Grace by surprise. "Georgie and I were out in the maze, running the corridors, and he got ahead of me. Something attacked him. He keeps saying he got _stung._ Anybody know anything about this?"

"Minho might." Grace told him. "He still hasn't come back with Clint."

"He's probably slacking off." One of the gathered Gladers called out, earning him a fierce glare from Grace.

"It was one of those creatures he talked about, though," Alby said. "Had to be. Grace, have you seen anything?" He added, looking at her. She shook her head.

"No. He saw whatever it was _after_ we started running different sections of the maze."

"It doesn't really matter what it was." Nick said, pointing down at George. The other boy was curled tightly into a ball, rocking slightly and whimpering in pain. "What are we going to do with him? All we have is a bunch of aspirin and bandages."

"There was something weird in the cooking supplies they sent up last week." Frypan called out, stepping forward. Grace liked the guy, he minded his own business and made food and she couldn't fault him at all for that.

"What are you talking about, Siggy?"

A chorus a snickers echoed from the boys, making Grace roll her eyes. _Now_ really was not the time.

"His name's Frypan. You're the only one who doesn't call him that."

"Guys!" She snapped harshly, scowling. "Is now really the time?" She turned back to Frypan, her expression softening. "What do you mean? They sent up something?"

"It was in the bottom of a cardboard box," He explained. "Some kind of syringe, had the word _serum_ printed on it. I figured it was a mistake - somebody had accidentally dropped it in there, whatever. Threw it out with the sausage leftovers this morning."

Alby took a threatening step towards Fry, prompting Grace to step between the two. She knew how Alby's temper could be. "Alby…" She said warningly, but he was glaring at Frypan over her head.

"You threw it out? Didn't bother telling anybody? No wonder you wanna cook - ain't got brains for nothin' else."

"If that makes you feel smarter. Anyway, I'm telling you now, aren't I? Slim it." Frypan responded calmly.

"Where'd you throw it away?" Nick asked. "Maybe it's not broke. Let's at least take a look at it."

"Be right back." With that, Frypan turned and jogged off towards the Homestead, passing Minho who was heading in their direction, Clint in tow.

"Well...what's going on?" Minho asked as he approached, watching George warily.

"He was stung by something out in the maze." Grace said quickly, looking at Clint. "Do you know how to use a syringe?"

"It should be easy enough." He said with a shrug. "Stick it in, push the plunger."

"What do you mean he was stung out in the maze?" Minho asked, eyes widening.

"Probably by whatever creature you saw out there." Nick told him. "He's be acting like a crazy person ever since. The Creators sent up a syringe though, labeled _serum._ Siggy is going to get it now, so we can see if it even works."

Another groan from George caught their attention again, and Clint moved forward, stooping down to touch a hand to the boy's forehead. "He is burning up." The boy announced.

The boy looked even worse than he had minutes earlier, his chest moving only slightly, his limbs and muscles slack, body swollen. If they didn't at least have a chance with the serum that Frypan had found, Grace would suggest that they put him out of his misery. George didn't look like he had much longer left anyway.

"And his head looks like it's about to _pop."_ she added. "I don't imagine that that's very good either."

"Here!" Everyone looked up as Frypan returned, clutching a shiny cylinder in his hand. Clint reached forward to grab it, inspecting it for a moment before returning to George's side, Nick crouching down next to him.

"Um...where should I-"

"Anywhere." Alby yelled. "Just hurry and do it! Look at him!"

Clint hesitated for only a moment longer before sticking the needle into George's arm and pressing the plunger down. Everyone gathered, waiting with bated breath for George to have some sort of reaction.

"Come on, Georgie." Nick whispered, so softly that Grace could barely hear.

A long moment passed with everyone waiting, watching nervously for something to happen.

And then George was up, a wild yell escaping his mouth as everyone scrambled back, moving away from him. The boys eyes bulged, a painful grimace pulling at his face. "Griever!" He yelled. "It was a damn Griever! They'll kill us all."

He leaped at Clint, tackling him to the ground the slamming his fist into his face, making the other boy cry out in pain. He kept hitting him, and on instinct Grace started forward to help, but a hand snagged her wrist, pulling her back. She turned to find Newt, holding her back, shaking her head slightly. "Nothing you can do." He said softly. "Four of us could barely hold him, Grace."

Grace narrowed her eyes, opening her mouth to argue but another cry of pain had her whipping around to face the scene unfolding before her again. Alby and Nick had both stepped in to try and help, but George had lunged at Nick wildly, before returning to attacking Clint, aiming for the other boy's eyes.

Other boys stepped forward to try to help, attempting to grab onto George to stop him, but none of them could keep their grip. Not even Minho, who's attempts to stop him were met with a swift punch to the face. Newt's grip on Grace's wrist tightened, stopping her from rushing forward to help her friend.

Alby came out of nowhere all of a sudden, catching Grace by surprise. She hadn't even seen him leave in all the chaos. He held a broken shovel in his hands, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles were white, a determined look on his face. "Get out of the way!" He ordered.

George paid him no attention, his fingers attempting to dig into Clint's eyes, the other boy struggling wildly from beneath him. Grace knew what was going to happen before Alby had even done it and cringed, forcing herself to turn away, squeezing her eyes shut, the sound of choking gargles making her stomach turn. There was a groan and then a dull thud and then silence, broken only by Clint's pained whimpers. Newt's hand was still locked around her wrist, tightening slightly as he stared past her, eyes round and wide as he stared, unable to look away.

"Oh shuck, oh shuck, oh shuck." She heard Minho whispering in shock from behind her. Other boys were having similar reactions all around her. After a moment, Grace forced herself to turn to see, heart rising in her throat. Clint had slid out from underneath George, hands on his injured face, body covered in blood that Grace was sure wasn't his.

George lay fast first on the ground, the broken shovel handle still stuck through his neck, blood staining the ground beneath him. He didn't move, didn't even breath, and Grace felt cold all of a sudden, the urge to get sick rising rapidly.

George was dead, she knew. There was no way he couldn't be dead. And Alby stood above him, a horrified expression on his face, as if he couldn't quite believe what he had done.

 _Poor George._ Grace thought. _Poor Clint. Poor Alby._

Nick collapsed onto his knees by his friends body, rolling him onto his back, an expression of such utter anguish on his face that Grace felt her heart break for him.

 _Poor Nick. Poor everybody._

* * *

That night, around the bonfire, the mood was somber to say the least. Nobody spoke really, everyone still recovering from the day's events. Grace sat on her own, knees pulled up to her chest, green eyes set intently on the fire.

She didn't like fire, she knew that. It sent chills down her spine, though she wasn't quite sure why. It just left her feeling uneasy, and Grace figured that it had to have been something that had happened _before._ Still, it was warm and the glow of the flames was inviting. And anyway, she didn't quite feel like going to bed yet, not wanting to be left alone to try to sleep with the memories of the day still so fresh on her mind.

She hadn't even been able to eat dinner, her stomach churning as she stared forlornly at her plate. Many of others had had the same problem, she had noticed. George was the first one that they had lost in the Glade, and for him to die in such a violent manner was unsettling. If the Creators had made this place like many of them had suspected, then they knew about whatever creature had stung George in the maze. Hell, they had probably put them there too.

Suddenly, Grace understood why the doors closed every night. To keep those _things_ out. And they had obviously expected someone to get stung, had maybe even planned it. Why else would they send up the serum.

"You look like you're thinking awfully hard about something." A familiar voice said, making her look up in time to see Newt sit down next to her. "You alright, love?"

"Are you?" She shot back without answering. The answer was no, she wasn't alright. Not after what she had seen.

"I guess that _was_ a stupid question." He admitted. "After what happened…"

"Shouldn't you be with Alby?" Grace asked, raising a brow at him. Newt sighed slightly. "He yelled at me to leave him alone. He's not taking the whole thing very well, but I don't know what else to do for him."

"And you thought _I_ needed comforting? Newt, I didn't even do anything."

"No." He agreed. "But you would have. If I hadn't stopped you."

He was right, of course. His grip on her wrist had been firm, unrelenting, holding her back when every single one of her instincts had yelled at her to charge forward and help her friends. If he hadn't Grace knew that it could have gone very badly on her. She could have gotten pretty hurt, with the way that George had been acting. Still, she could have at least done _something._

"Why _did_ you stop me?" She couldn't help but ask, turning back to watch the flames dance cheerily.

"Because George would have snapped _you_ in half." He explained with a shrug, making her huff angrily. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She asked, turning to glare at him, lips pursed in annoyance.

"Well...you're tiny." Newt told her. "That's _not_ an insult, by the way. You're just small. Thin, I mean. And George seemed like a bloody gorilla with the way he was knockin' everyone away. I just didn't want you to get hurt tryin' to play the hero."

Grace huffed bitterly, but didn't say anything for a long time and neither did Newt, the both of them just sitting there for a while.

"Thanks." She said finally. "For trying to help. But I don't need anyone to protect me, Newt. I can take care of myself, you know." He laughed slightly. "You have made _that_ abundantly clear, Gracie. You're one of the only ones to volunteer to keep going into the maze. And you're going to _keep_ going in, aren't you?"

Keep going in? She hadn't even considered the option of _not_ going back in. It was her job, after all, and she refused to be scared away from it because of some stupid monster in the maze. Especially since the Maze was there only way out.

"Yeah," she said. "I am."

"Thought so. You're too bloody stubborn." The way he said it, it didn't sound like an insult. He reached forward to toss a handful of grass into the fire.

"Sorry?" She offered, though she didn't sound very sincere, and Newt laughed lightly again. "Don't be. It's that sheer stubbornness that's going to get us out of here one day."

"If you guys are riding completely on my stubbornness, you all might be disappointed." She snorted slightly.

"You're the _only_ girl. How much do you think any of the shanks in this place are actually gonna be disappointed in you?"

She actually laughed at that, catching herself by surprise. "What, because I'm the girl, they're gonna go easy on me? That's stupid." She huffed. "What a bunch of shuck-faces."

"Are you going to tell those shuck-faces how stupid they are?" He asked with a snort. "I will. I have _no_ problem doing that."

"Of course you wouldn't." He said, nudging her slightly. "Got a bit of a temper on you, don't you love."

"Just a bit." She said with a snort before going quiet again. "Was this to make me feel better?" She asked finally.

"Maybe I just like your company." He replied. "Or maybe this was so we would both feel better. Get our minds off of what happened. Maybe we'll be able to get some sleep tonight."

"Yeah," she said softly, though she didn't actually believe it. "Maybe we will.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: And here's the next chapter, which definitely kind of got away from me. There's a lot of bits from 'The Fever Code' in here, guys, but I tried my best to change it up at least a bit. I know that this is kind of moving a bit slow, but in the next few chapters, expect time skips as we lead up to Thomas' arrival in the Glade, I do, also, have the whole story outlined and every chapter titled and such so that will hopefully help to get chapters out pretty quickly.**

 **Also, on another note, I would like to think the first reviewer, BookRain. In response to your review, I would like to sincerely thank you for your kind words. As you should be able to see, after reading this chapter, yes Nick is in this story, but he won't have much highlight on him, unfortunately. As far as a slow-burn romance, it shouldn't take** _ **that**_ **long, but I guess you'll just have to wait and see!**

 **As for my other readers, reviews are always appreciated, and I look forward to seeing what you guys think!**


	5. Hide And Seek

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Maze Runner series or any other characters associated with it. However, I do own Grace and any other original characters that might pop up. And similarities to any other works of fanfiction are purely coincidental.**

 **CHAPTER FOUR**

" _There's no shame in fear, my father told me, what matters is how we face it."_

George R.R. Martin, _'A Clash of Kings'_

The peach tasted sweet in her mouth, the splash of flavor a welcome change from the bland water she had been drinking all day. Leaning against the wall of the Maze, Grace felt perfectly content to take a break as she ate her lunch, starting with her favorite bit.

It was a bad habit of hers, starting with the part she liked the best and being left with all the rest. And every day she swore to herself that the next day she would save the best for last. Yet, each day when she stopped for lunch she would find herself reaching into her lunch sack for the succulent fruit that she had put in early that morning.

Not that Grace minded the sandwich that she ate for lunch each day, but the fresh peach was _always_ the best part. Let the others enjoy their apples, she hated them anyway. As long as she had a peach she was content. Letting out a soft hum of contentment as she bit into the fruit again, Grace allowed herself to slide down to sit on the floor of the maze, taking a quick swig of water. She had left that morning in a better mood than she had been for a week, following George's death, and not even the walls of the maze could damper her high spirits.

In the wake of George's death things had been good. Though the memory of it still hung heavy over the Gladers, they were moving on. They had to. They had buried George deep in the forest after his death, late that evening after the runners had returned. Nick hadn't set foot in the Maze since that day, and it had been decided that only runners were allowed to venture into the Maze. Nobody wanted the same thing to happen to anyone else. So now it was just Grace, Minho, and Newt who did the running, until they found other Gladers who were willing to venture in.

Tossing her peach pit aside, Grace reach into her back to pull out her sandwich, unwrapping it and picking off the crust before taking a bite. Roast beef, she realized with a grin. Her favorite. She was about to take another bite when a noise caught her attention, making her freeze, sandwich halfway to her mouth, senses suddenly on high alert.

 _Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr_

 _Click-click-click_

 _Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr_

Her heart dropped, and in an instant, Grace had thrown her sandwich aside and stood, swinging her backpack onto her back. She had never heard that sound before, but in the days following George's death, when Nick would tell them about what happened in the maze, he told them about the clicking. And in the monotonous corridors of the maze, it was easy to narrow the possible cause of the noise down to one thing in particular.

 _Griever._

 _Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr_

 _Click-click-click_

 _Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr_

Where was the sound coming from? Every instinct in her body yelled at her to run, but logically Grace knew that if she went the wrong way, she could run right into it and then she would be no better off than George had been.

So she had to wait, poised and ready to bolt in either direction. But, she realized with a start, she couldn't go to the Glade. If she returned to the safety of home, how could she be sure that this thing wouldn't follow her the whole way and hurt one of her friends? They didn't know how these things thought or how they acted. And if she lead it back to the Glade and someone got hurt, then it would be her fault. So no, she had to be careful, had to lose this thing deep in the maze before heading back.

 _Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr_

 _Click-click-click_

 _Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr_

To her right! The noise had definitely come from her right! Even as the realization hit her, she glanced that direction, eyes widening slightly when she saw the beginnings of something, of some _thing,_ rounding the corner. She had waited to long, she realized, and now it was _right there._

It was a strange combination of parts, slimy and wet looking, but made of a mixture of flesh and machine. Different appendage protruded awkwardly from it's body, giving it a distinctly dangerous look. This is what had stung George? Grace hadn't been sure what she had expected, but it certainly wasn't this. And yet, she couldn't help but feel like it was appropriate. It moved in a forward roll, not going to terribly fast. But still, it was enough that Grace was uncomfortable. So, she did the only thing she could do.

She turned and ran.

Grace couldn't remember, but she was sure that she had never run so fast in her entire life. Legs pumping, lungs burning, every cell in her body urged her to _run fucking faster!_ She didn't even know if the thing was still behind her but she was _not_ going to stop to find out. She wasn't even exactly sure where she was leading it, just as long as it was away from the Glade, away from her friends.

But she couldn't keep this up much longer, she had to stop soon or else she was afraid that she would collapse from exhaustion.

Sweat poured down her face while her heart thudded wildly in her chest. Had her life always been like this? Had she always been caught in such a desperate chase between life and almost certain death? Or was this new to her, a product of being stuck in the Glade, with these creatures wandering the Maze? Grace didn't know, and as she continued to run, she couldn't help but think that she didn't _want_ to know.

She turned, rounding a corner sharply and letting out a startled shriek as she collided with something firm and strong. Hands immediately reached up, catching her by her shoulders before she could fall back onto her ass. Still, her heart raced in her chest and it took her a moment to recognize the familiar brown eyes staring down into her green ones.

"Minho!" She cried in relief, only just noticing that she was shaking. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself before realizing with a start that she might have led the Griever right to Minho. "We have to go! She have to go _right now!_ "

He frowned, letting her go as he peered behind her, obviously looking for whatever the threat was. "Grace, what the klunk is going on?"

"Griever!" She said quickly, before turning to peer around the corner, into the corridor she had just come from. It was empty, and she didn't _hear_ anything, but she still didn't trust it. That thing had been so close, too close for comfort, and if she hadn't run she didn't want to think about what could have happened.

" _What?!_ A Griever attacked you?" He demanded, eyes widening. "Are you okay?"

"It didn't. I ran. I must have lost it somewhere. Or maybe it didn't chase me. I don't know, I never stopped to check." She took another shaky breath, before pushing her hair back, out of her face.

"Why didn't you go back to the Glade?" Minho asked, still looking her over with a concerned look.

"I didn't want to lead it back there. I didn't want to get anybody hurt. I didn't mean to run into you, either by the way. I guess I was so caught up with running away from it, I didn't realize I had run into your section."

He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "You should worry about yourself some, Grace. Come on, we'll both head back to the Glade. Looks like you lost it anyway. It should be fine." With that he turned, starting in the opposite direction, leaving her to follow him with a scowl on her face.

"Are you telling me you would have done anything different, Min? We don't know how these things act. Would _you_ have lead it back to the Glade?"

He didn't respond, and Grace didn't need him to. Minho would have done the exact same thing she had. He might have complained about it the whole time, perhaps, but he wouldn't have led the thing back to where their friends in the Glade would be hurt.

"You _are_ okay, right?" He asked suddenly, stopping abruptly as he turned to face her, taking her by surprise. "You never did answer."

Grace stopped, frowning slightly. She _was_ okay, of course. She hadn't gotten hurt, and when the shock of the whole thing finally wore off she would probably be a little hungry. But she was also shaken, mind racing, going through the possibilities of what might have happened. She could have gotten stung, could have ended up in the same state that George had been in, only she would have been out in the Maze with nobody else having a single clue what had happened to her. Or, that thing could have followed right behind her and could have gotten Minho. The fact was that she was scared, _terrified,_ and Grace didn't really know what she could do about that.

"I'm fine." She said finally, though even as she said it, the words felt like a lie. She didn't _feel_ fine. But Grace also knew that she couldn't afford to _let_ herself be anything other than fine.

Minho raised his brows disbelievingly, but didn't press the issue any further, turning and continuing on the path back towards the Glade.

"I'm fine." She repeated to herself, under her breath, thinking that maybe, if she said it enough, it would feel like the truth.

* * *

After hearing about the whole thing in the maze, Frypan was gracious enough to make her another roast beef sandwich, setting the plate in front of her before turning to continue preparing dinner.

"Thanks." She said, staring down at the food, but not making any move to take a bite. It _looked_ delicious, and she _was_ still hungry. But the thought of eating anything just didn't have any appeal. Still, Fry had made the sandwich for her and Grace wasn't the type to waste food. So she raised it to her mouth, taking a big bite and immediately letting out a hum of appreciation. It _was_ good.

She had gotten back a few hours ago, and had endured curious looks from the other Gladers and rigorous questioning from Nick and Alby, who had made her swear up and down that she had absolutely, a hundred percent, without a doubt _not_ been stung. When she had finally managed to extract herself from their prying gaze and relentless questions, it had been Minho who suggested she get a bite to eat from Frypan. Grateful for the suggestion and any excuse to get away from the curious looks from the Gladers, she had slunk away to the kitchen, slipping inside and seating herself at the table.

It had been too late for Minho to try to go back out into the Maze, and frankly Grace wasn't sure that she would even _let_ him go back right now. She still felt very shaken up about the whole thing, and just the fact that Newt was still in their, oblivious to what had happened was enough to fill her with a sense of unease.

"It was big and ugly, right?" Frypan asked, taking her thoroughly by surprise. Frypan had never been the conversational type, and while the thought of eating in silence wasn't exactly appealing, Grace had not expected him to try conversing with her.

"Uh...yeah. It was. Big and ugly and awkward looking. Part of it looked mechanical, but then it had these fleshy parts too. And it had all these appendages sticking out of it. Needs and rods and stuff. It looked like some kind of messed up chimera."

"A messed up _what?_ " Frypan looked up at her then, furrowing his bushy eyebrows at her. Grace wasn't even sure where the word had come from or how she knew what it meant, but it had slipped out of her mouth. Had she known what it was before?

"A chimera. It's a uh...creature from greek mythology. It was a hybrid, made up of a bunch of different parts of other creatures. Or...in the Grievers' case, machines and creatures."

"You remember that from before, huh?" Fry asked, turning back to the task at hand. Grace took another bite of her sandwich, taking her time chewing and swallowing before answering. "I don't know that remembering is exactly the best way to put it. I don't know _how_ I remember it. The information is just sort of...in my head, you know? Like how you know how to cook."

"Still, it's pretty weird information to have, Grace." He responded, before giving her a look that said he was only teasing. She forced a smile, opening her mouth to say something when another voice cut her off.

"Grace! _Gracie_!"

"Sounds like Newt is looking for you."

It certainly did, his familiar accented voice ringing out from outside the kitchens. The sound of his voice immediately had her sighing in relief. He was okay, he had made it back in one piece and had likely heard about her encounter with the Griever. And judging from the insistent way he was calling her name, he wanted to make sure that she was okay himself. Sighing again, Grace finished off her sandwich quickly before standing, ignoring the amused look Frypan sent her way. She left the kitchen, running almost immediately into Newt who had been heading that direction.

"There you are." He said immediately, looking her over quickly, concern evident on his face. "Minho told me what happened. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She said instantly, the answer falling automatically from her lips. Newt frowned, furrowing his brow at her. "Gracie, you ran into a bloody Griever. Are you absolutely sure that-"

"Newt," she said, cutting him off quickly. "It didn't hurt me. I hauled ass before it could even touch me."

"Being okay doesn't _just_ mean not being physically hurt Grace. You do know that. And it's okay if you're not okay."

"I'm fine." She insisted, the lie tasting bitter in her mouth. She was shaken and scared, dreading returning to the maze the next day. But she also knew that being anything other than okay was _not_ an option. She already knew that some of the boys questioned her ability to act as a runner because she was a girl, she didn't want to make them think that the doubts they had were correct.

"You're awful at lying Grace." Newt sighed, brown eyes scanning her face before he looked away. "But fine, if you want to be stubborn then go ahead. I just wanted to check that you were okay is all."

"I'm _not_ being stubborn, I jus-"

The sound of someone yelling caught her attention, making her tense as she looked around, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. Was it a Griever? Had it come into the Glade? Her stomach clenched in anticipation, but everywhere she looked there was no sign of the Griever, so then what-

"Over there." Newt said, pointing past her, in the direction of the box hole, where a small crowd of people were forming. "What the bloody hell are they doing?"

"Are they sending up something?" She asked, but even as she said the words she knew they weren't. Even from where she stood, she would be able to hear the telltale sound of the gear turning, raising the box up. So it had to be something else.

"No." Newt said. "Come on." He rushed past her, Grace immediately running after him, the two of them heading towards the group, their previous conversation quickly forgotten.

"Hey," She called as they approached. "What the hell are you all doing?"

"It's Archie." One of the boys said from where he stood, peering down into the box hole. "He's climbing down the box hole."

"Wait, _what?"_ Grace frowned, stepping forward to peer down into the darkness that stretched down, down, _down._ Sure enough, there was a rope going over the edge, leading down into the boxhole. "And just _what_ would possess the dumbass to do that?"

"He wanted out." Another boy called, shrugging slightly. Grace pursed her lips at him, thoroughly unimpressed with the answer. "We _all_ want out. But not of us are stupid enough to try climbing down the box hole. We don't even know how far the thing goes down."

From beside her, she felt Newt take a step forward to peer over the edge. The boy sighed, shaking his head slightly. "We risk our necks trying to find a way out of the Maze and he decides to do _this."_

"What's going on?" Nick's voice rang out from behind him, the tone high and authoritative. Grace glanced back to see him approaching with Alby on one side, Minho on the other

"Guys," Archie's voice echoed from below. "It's fine! I have plenty of rope left."

"Oh gosh, that just makes me feel so good about this whole thing." Grace muttered sarcastically as she turned to face Nick.

"Archie decided to be a dumbass and try climbing down the box hole." She informed him quickly. Nick frowned, glancing past her while Alby scoffed. "Dumbass is right. Doesn't he know how dangerous that could be?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Grace asked. "I don't pretend to know why anyone does any of the things they do."

"More importantly, why don't we get him to climb up?" Newt interjected. " _Before_ something bad happens."

"He's just trying to find a way out. Just like you guys do when you go into the maze." Grace rolled her eyes, turning to face the group of boys, Archie's friends, who had all lined up around the edge of the box hole to, she assumed, support Archie's escape attempt.

" _Mazes_ are big puzzles. They're meant to be solved to find a way out." She pointed out. "You think there's gonna be a big exit sign at the bottom of that hole?"

"Enough arguing." Nick sighed. "Let's just get him up."

"Good that." Newt said before cupping his hands around his mouth. "Archie, you need to start climbing back up. We're not sure the box hole is safe." He called down. It took a moment for the boy to answer, and everyone waited in bated silence for his response.

"I'm just trying to find a way out guys. It's fi- wait, what was that?" There was clear panic in Archie's voice that had Grace sharing an alarmed look with the others, Archie's friends shifting uneasily.

"What's going on, Arch?" One of them, a boy named Gally, called down.

There was complete silence, everyone standing tensely as they waited for Archie to reply. And then-

"GUYS! PULL ME UP! PULL ME UP!" The boy yelled, his voice echoing from deep within the box hole. Nick was the first one to spring into action, rushing over to grab the rope and starting to pull, the others fumbling along behind them hurriedly to take their places to start pulling Archie up as well.

All the movement around the box hole has started to attract the attention of the other Gladers, the boys gathering around to stare on in confused ignorance as the assortment of boys and the single girl hustled to pull the rope.

"How shucking deep did he climb?" Grace heard Minho grumble from where he stood behind her, gripping the rope. It wasn't particularly difficult to pull Archie up with so many people but it was taking too long. To his credit, Archie was trying his damndest to climb up the rope as they pulled it, his panicked voice streaming incoherently as he climbed. And then, all of a sudden Archie let out a bloodcurdling scream as the rope jerked awkwardly, followed by deathly silence.

Grace felt very cold all of a sudden as she stared past those who stood in front of her, everything seeming to freeze. "Guys," she whispered finally, her voice clearly audible in the silence. "What happened?"

"Keep pulling." Nick said, ignoring her question and giving a firm tug on the rope. Not knowing what else to do, the others followed suit. With each tug, Grace felt her heart drop more and more, a weight settling in her stomach. This wouldn't be good, she knew. Whatever this was, it would not be good.

It was Nick who saw what had happened first, a horrified groan escaping him. "Oh god." He whispered, but he didn't stop pulling. A moment later, the others saw as well, Alby letting out a loud curse and stumbling back while Newt tripped over his own feet trying to get away.

"Oh….oh no…" Grace took a few panicked steps back as well, backing into Minho who stared past her, eyes wide, unable to look away.

All around them, other Gladers were having similar reactions. Cries of shock and disgust rang from the boys and most of them turned away, too horrified to continue looking at the scene that lay before them. Grace felt her stomach turn, the food that she had just eaten churning dangerously and so she turned away, forcing her eyes away and squeezing them shut. Because Archie lay dead on the ground by the Box Hole, in clear sight of all the assembled Gladers. Or, at least, what was left of him. Blood and intestines pooled beneath him, and it had been plain to see that the boy had been cut cleanly in half.

Finally, Minho forced himself to look away from Archie's body, looking down at her instead, his face pale and horrified. _Probably what I look like right now,_ Grace thought.

"Nobody else tries going down the box hole." Nick ordered, though Grace doubted anybody else would be stupid enough to try. "Alby, help me move his body."

"Yeah…" the boy said after a long moment. "Okay."

Grace heard a shuffle of movement but still didn't turn around, keeping her gaze set determinedly on Minho to avoid having to see what was left of Archie. "Is it gone?" She asked finally. He looked up quickly before sighing in relief and nodding. "Yeah," he said. "They're heading towards the forest."

 _The forest where George is buried. Our graveyard now, I guess._

Turning around, Grace refused to look at the path of earth that was now stained darker than the rest, instead crouching down beside Newt who had yet to stand, his eyes squeezed shut, looking like he would get sick any moment.

"Hey," she said gently. "You good?"

"Good? No. I just saw a severed body. No way I'm going to be good after that." He said hoarsely, shaking his head. Grace sighed. "You're right. That was a stupid question. Still, you can't just sit there. Everybody is here, Newt. Everybody is shocked. We need to show them that everything is okay." Her voice was firm, and as she said them, Grace knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Gladers would be looking to them right now for some idea of how they should act. In the recent days, the boys of the Glade had taken to looking to her group of friends as leaders, with Nick being the head of them all. Grace wasn't even sure how it happened really, but it had and no matter how much she had tried to tell boys to stop coming to _her_ with questions and information, they hadn't stopped.

It was the best thing Nick and Alby could have done, to remove the body quickly, and while they were taking care of that Grace, Newt, and Minho needed to take care of the shellshocked boys that still stood around, before everyone started panicking or jumping to conclusions.

"Grace, Archie was cut in half." Newt argued quietly as he rose to his feet. "Everything is _not_ okay."

"Then we _lie._ " She whispered, her tone leaving no room for arguments. Whether everything was okay or not, they needed to act like they had it handled, otherwise the Glade could fall into chaos very quickly.

"Everybody stay calm." She said, raising her voice so that everybody could hear her. The chorus of voices that had been ringing out from around them abruptly stopped as the Gladers turned to look at her. "What we just saw was...awful." She admitted. "And we've now lost _two_ boys. Two of us are dead, and we're still stuck in this place. I know everything seems hopeless right now, but we _will_ figure this out. The Maze is just one big puzzle, and it's our job to solve it. Right guys?" She asked, giving Minho and Newt meaningful looks.

"Oh, uh...right." Minho said, while Newt frowned but nodded firmly.

"What's important right now is that we stay calm, that we keep doing the things we need to do for the rest of us to survive." She continued. "We just have to be careful and work together. We have to keep moving forward, keep trying to figure out the Maze and keep things running smoothly in the Glade. And if that's going to work then all of us need to pitch in. That's how we survive here. We depend on each other, we work with each other and help each other. And if we do that, then things will be just fine. Now, everybody should get back to work." Crossing her arms over her chest, Grace could only hope that she had said enough to the Gladers to avoid any fallout or panic after what had happened. And while nobody looked pleased to be told to get back to work, everybody finally began to turn away one by one.

"Come on," she said to Newt and Minho quickly. "No matter how much I _really_ don't want to, we'd better go help Nick and Alby."

* * *

 _She opened her eyes and was in the Maze, on the other side of the doors leading into the Glade. Standing there, it took Grace a moment to realize that it was dark, the sky endless and black overhead, not a single star shining. With a start, Grace realized that the door behind her was shut, making her stomach lurch. She was on the wrong shucking side of the door!_

 _Turning back, her heart thudding wildly in her chest, Grace was surprised to find a single long, dark corridor stretching out before her. There was nowhere else to go, she realized, this was the only path that was open. All she could do was move forward. Frowning, Grace took a deep breath before taking that first step down the corridor. The change was instantaneous, her world suddenly spinning wildly around her as everything moved._

 _Of course! The Maze changed at night. How could she forget that it changed, rearranging itself into different paths and patterns. Still, Grace hadn't expected it to be like this, so fast and disorienting, making her feel like she was going to puke. And then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped, leaving her feeling dizzy._

 _She was standing somewhere different now, in a stretch of Maze so overgrown with Ivy that she was sure she would recognize it if she had seen it before._

Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Click-click-click

Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

 _She recognized that horrible sound! Yet, even as she listened, straining her ears to hear it, it was impossible to tell where it was coming from. In fact, the noise seemed to be echoing from all around her._

Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Click-click-click

Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

 _Yes! There it was again. Her stomach dropped as she backed up, back pressing against the ivy clad walls. She suddenly felt very cold, the usual comfortable temperature of the Glade and surrounding Maze suddenly gone. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Her clothes were not meant for cold weather and, to her absolute surprise, her feet were bare, toes curling against the cold stone floor._

Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Click-click-click

Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

 _It sounded closer now, so close that it could have been right next to her. Yet, no matter where she turned, Grace couldn't see it. What was she going to do? What the hell was she going to do?_

 _Her only option was to bolt, pick a direction and run and just hope that she didn't run smack into it. Maybe, if she tried really, really hard, she would be able to survive the night and make it back to the Glade come morning._

 _Resolve settled in, Grace setting her jaw determinedly as he started forward, poised to start her mad dash into the depths of the Maze. But she was cut off suddenly, the Griever seeming to come out of nowhere as it intercepted her, making her yelp as she stumbled back, ending up against the wall again as the thing advanced on her, clicking menacingly._

" _No!" She yelled at it. "No! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go awa-"_

"GUYS! PULL ME UP! PULL ME UP!"

 _She stiffened as the desperate plea for help echoed around her. Someone, a voice she recognized, screaming for help. But how did she recognize the voice? It didn't sound familiar in the sense that it was someone she talked to frequently. So then how did she know it?_

" _GRACE! GRACE, HELP ME! PULL ME UP!"_

 _The Griever was gone suddenly, leaving nothing but a minor memory in it's wake as Grace pushed forward, turning where the stood, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. But the vast walls of the maze made everything echo around her, and she had no way of knowing which direction to go._

" _Hello?" She called tentatively. "Can you hear me? I'm here! Where are you? I can help you!"_

 _She got no answer, and the voice didn't call out again. Grace frowned. What had happened? Why did the person need help, and why were they calling out for her? A sudden scraping sound caught her attention, making her furrow her brow. What was that?_

 _And then she saw it, coming around a corner ahead of her. A half body, dragging itself, leaving a trail a sickly red blood behind it. Archie, she realized, eyes widening. And he was looking right at her with glazed over eyes._

" _Grace!" He yelled. "Why didn't you all save me? Why didn't you save me?" His question sounded angry, the words echoing loudly around them. And all Grace could do was stumble back, moving away from him as fast as she could. "I'm sorry!" She yelled. "We tried! We really tried!"_

 _Her foot caught on a loose stone, making her stumble backwards to land on her back, knocking the air out of her. And then, a hand clasped around her ankle, grip firm, making her yell out in fright. "Let go, Archie" She yelled, leaning up to look at him, trying to pull her foot away. But his grip stayed strong, and he glared, still pulling himself closer toward her with his other hand._

" _No!" She screamed, trying to scoot backwards, trying to scoot away from him. That's when she smelled the smoke, the scent suddenly becoming overwhelming as she coughed. "HELP ME!" Archie yelled, only this time he didn't sound like himself at all. Instead, his voice was high pitched and shrill, clearly the voice of a woman. The sound sent chills through grass, and she opened her mouth to say something just as the wall to her left erupted into fire making her scream. It spread quickly, the ivy going up in flames, the smoke curling into the night sky._

 _As she watched, horrified and frozen by fear, the fire spread to the ground, heading steadily towards her. From where she was, she could feel the sudden overwhelming heat, a vast change from the cold from earlier._

" _No!" She yelled again. "Please, no!" Though she wasn't sure exactly who she was asking._

 _The fire reached Archie before it reached her, the flames enveloping him quickly, making her scream as she watched it spread up his arm, heading towards her. And she was unable to do anything, his grip still firm and unrelenting._

 _Her screams turned to desperate sobs as she tried to jerk her leg free before the flames reached her, but she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried. There was no escape, she knew, no way for her to get away._

" _Grace." A voice called, seeming to come from far away. "Help me!" She yelled at it, though she knew better. Nobody was coming to help her._

" _Grace!" The voice called again, firmer this time, just as the fire reached her, setting her pants on fire, making her cry out in terror and pain._

"Grace!"

She gasped as she woke up, eyes snapping open to see a face hovering inches over hers, making her yelp in surprise. A firm hand on her shoulder stilled her, when she went to move a way, and with a start she realized it was only Minho, looking at her worriedly, a frown on his face.

"Oh. It's you." She sighed in relief as she sat up, pulling her knees to her chest, immediately hiding her face in her hands, her heart racing in her chest.

"Are you okay?" He asked. "You were jerking around in your sleep. You're lucky I'm the only one that you woke up with all the squirming around you were doing."

"Just a dream." She assured him, her voice muffled by her hands. "It was just a dream."

"Sounds like a hell of a dream you had there, Gracie."

"Yeah. It was." She agreed, lowering her hands to look at him. He was still watching her, still looking worried. And then suddenly he stood, offering a hand to help her up. "Come on." He said. Grace blinked, surprised, before reaching out to take his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. "Where are we going?" She asked, confusedly. "For a walk, shuckface. Now keep quiet. Don't want to wake everyone else up, do we?" He asked as he started to maneuver over other sleeping bodies, stepping over Newt and sidestepping Alby, while nearly stepping on Nick's hand. If Grace wasn't so caught up with her dream, she might have laughed. Laughing would do her some good, she knew, but after the day she had had, she couldn't find it in her. First the Maze, then Archie then trekking into the woods to help with the body. In the end, they had decided to put the body behind a panel of glass, like he was on display, as a warning to any other Gladers who thought about trying to escape through the box hole again. They wouldn't have a repeat of this, they had decided. One was bad enough. Just looking at Archie's body had been taxing though, and all of them had been in a hurry to get the whole thing over with.

She followed him cautiously, finally stepping outside with him, into the cool night air, closing the door carefully behind her. The original shack was still where most of them slept, while many of the newer arrivals had been pushed to the outside, to sleep in hammocks while they expanded the homestead. Eventually, the plan was for them to have bedrooms, though the simple fact of the matter was that there was simply no way that they would be able to have a room for everybody. Still, even outside they would have to be quiet or risk dealing with some very grumpy Gladers.

"Come on, I know where Frypan keeps the sweet stuff." Minho told her quietly as he started for the kitchens. "You do?" She asked, surprised. Frypan always did his best to ration out the food fairly, and most of it was meat and vegetables. Grace didn't even know that they had junk food. "Yeah." Minho told her. "He says he's gonna try baking with the sweet stuff eventually, but I think he just wants to keep it all to himself."

Grace grinned but didn't say anything as they headed to the kitchen, slipping inside, Minho immediately heading to the pantry where he disappeared, reappearing a moment later with a large chocolate bar in his hands. "See." He said proudly, waving it in her face. "Aren't you glad I felt sorry for you. Now you get chocolate."

Grace scoffed, reaching up to snatch the chocolate from him before he could pull it away. "Thanks." She said quietly. "Don't mention it." He said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Grace sighed, tearing the chocolate open and breaking off a piece before handing it over to him, hoisting herself up to sit on the counter.

"I don't know. I don't even know what to make of it. Like you said, it was a hell of a dream. First it was a Griever, then it was Archie dragging himself towards me, then there was fire and a woman screaming. It was...awful."

"The Griever and Archie, I get, but fire? Think it's something that stuck around from before."

From before...before waking up in the Maze not remembering anything other than her own name. She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe." Raising the chocolate to her mouth, she nibbled on it for a moment before popping the whole thing into her mouth. "I told everybody that everything would be okay, but the truth is I'm worried and scared. I just...get this feeling that when we do get out of here, things won't get any easier."

"So, what? You think we should just stay here?" He asked, raising his brows, his voice taking on an edge.

"No!" She said, quickly. "In here, or out there with whatever is waiting on us, things are still dangerous. Two of us have died already. There are monsters out there in the Maze. All I'm saying is that I'm worried."

Minho visibly relaxed as he took another bite of chocolate, taking a long time to chew before finally swallowing. "Grace, things are going to get better." He said. "They have to."

"Yeah," she sighed. "I hope you're right."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: And there's chapter four which, honestly, when I wrote it just seemed to drag on and on. I am sorry it took so long, by the way. I've been busy the past week and was hustling to finish it the last couple days. So here it is and hopefully you guys think that this chapter was exciting at least.**

 **Anyway, tell me what you guys think. Things will progress quickly from here, with time skips and highlighting important things that happen in the Maze, leading up to Thomas' arrival. I'm hoping to get more of Grace's character across as well, but with all the depressing things that happen that's proving to be pretty hard. She's not always so serious guys, I promise!**

 **In any case, hopefully I can have the next chapter out sooner rather than later. I have everything outlined, so all I have to do is write it! Also, I'm going to attempt to make a trailer for this story soon, though my attempts to find a good video editor for my chromebook haven't worked out thus far. Still, I'll keep you guys updated on the progress of that!**

 **BookRain: Yeah, Minho and Grace interactions are my favorite to write, just because writing the dialogue between them comes super easy. There will be a lot more bantering as the story progresses because, suffice it to say, Grace and Minho will be spending a lot of time together.**

 **Guest: Thank you for your kind words! I love when I get such nice reviews. As far as Grace being the leader, I can safely say that she will be, and is already acting, as a leader of sorts. But we see in the books that there are a few Gladers who others look to as leaders, namely Alby and Newt and Minho. I figured Grace will fit in with the group nicely, but as the story progresses you should see more and more of it as the council is formed and such.**


	6. Judge, Jury, and Executioner

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Maze Runner series or any other characters associated with it. However, I do own Grace and any other original characters that might pop up. And similarities to any other works of fanfiction are purely coincidental.**

 **CHAPTER FIVE**

" _Delaying death is one of my favorite hobbies."_

Rick Riordan, _The Mark of Athena_

She liked to compare the maze to Daedalus' labyrinth. Grace wasn't even entirely sure how she remembered the story of the labyrinth, just that it was one of the things to stick with her after her memories were taken.

She had told Minho about it one day, how the labyrinth had been built by Daedalus to house the minotaur, before jokingly adding that the Grievers were their version of the minotaur. In the myth, Daedalus had done such a good job when building the labyrinth that he could barely escape from it himself when it was finished because he had done such a good job. Whoever had put the Maze together, Grace had the feeling that Daedalus would be proud.

Hand trailing over cold stone walls, Grace approached the doors leading into the Glade, sighing softly. Another day of finding nothing, and after weeks of searching the maze, trying to solve the damned thing, they were no closer to a solution. She entered the Glade, feet automatically steering her in the direction of the Map Room. It didn't matter what was going on around her, her map was her first priority, before anything slipped her mind. That's what she and Minho had decided one night after dinner, when they had been chatting about taking on new runners and how best to train them. There were too many sections of the Maze for just Grace, Minho, and Newt to run and they needed at least eight runners out there everyday to get all the sections covered. It had seemed like a good idea then, training other Gladers to be runners, but now Grace wasn't so sure.

Of the boys that Grace and Minho had agreed upon, only two of them had started running the Maze alone so far, and two days ago one of the boys had gotten stung by a Griever on his third day of running alone. Grace hadn't been the one taking care of his training, Minho had, but that didn't stop the guilt from eating away at her. They had both felt that training others to run in the Maze was a good idea, and something awful happening so soon didn't bode well with either of them. And it certainly wasn't helping them find prospective runners either.

Grace knew that Minho felt guilty, even if he wouldn't say anything. Of the boys in the Glade, he was one of the ones that she was closest with. Newt was probably the other, though there was no denying that her separate friendships with the two boys were distinctly different. With Minho, it had been easy falling into a friendship. But Newt was different. She had felt something deep inside her when she had woken him up on that first day in the Glade, but hadn't thought too much of it. There were so many other things to worry about, after all.

Still, recently Grace couldn't help but wonder about it more and more. Had she and Newt known each other before? Had they been friends? Well if they hadn't they certainly were now. While Grace found herself naturally spending more time with Minho, he was her best friend after all, there was a different draw towards Newt, though she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

Pushing the door to the Map Room open, Grace wasn't surprised to find Minho and Newt already there, working on their maps. She had been cutting it rather close today, losing track of time out in the Maze.

"Cutting it a little close today, slinthead." Minho said without looking up. "Find anything?"

"Oh yeah," she sighed sarcastically, walking to get the supplies she needed to start her map before settling down at the table. "A rainbow bridge that'll lead us right outta here. There were unicorns prancing around on it and everything."

Minho snorted slightly, shaking his head, while Newt cracked a tiny grin, peeking up at her through the fringe of her hair. The three fell into silence after that, all three of them working on their maps, Minho and Newt finished theirs before sitting and waiting for Grace to finish as well. She finally sat her pencil down on the table before leaning back in her chair.

"How's Tesla?" She asked casually, glancing at them. The question was enough to bring a frown to both of their faces. He was the first one to have gotten stung since George, and everyone was worrying about it, everyone silently hoping that they wouldn't have to bury someone else. "Haven't check yet." Minho answered standing from his seat. His face was set, forehead creased as he turned to leave. "We should go check on him now." And with that he was gone, opening the door to the Map Room and stepping outside.

Grace sighed, standing as well and moving to put her map away. "He's really beating himself up about it." Newt observed. Grace nodded, humming slightly in agreement. "He is. He won't say anything but I know what he's thinking, if he hadn't told Tesla he was ready then the kid would have gotten stung. I tried to tell him that it could have happened to any of us but-"

"He didn't want to hear it." Newt finished for her. Grace snorted, nodding slightly and closing the lid of the box that they used to store maps. "He's stubborn. Whatever happens he's gonna kick himself in the ass about it. It doesn't help that this whole thing isn't exactly making it easier to get more runners."

"Nothing about any of this is easy, Gracie." He pointed out as he stood, stretching his arms over his head as she turned to face him. "Come on. We had better go see how he's doing as well, yeah?"

"Yeah." She agreed, moving to fall into step behind him as he left. Grace had to admit that he was right. Nothing about this was easy. They were left to grow and tend to food on their own, slaughter their own meat, built more shelter. And they were only teenagers. They were all equally clueless, all desperate for some answers. But whoever had done this to them was staying determinedly silent, not giving them any clues. This was meant to be a challenge, Grace knew. They were rats in a maze, meant to be observed. It's why they had the beetle blades here, to keep an eye on them. They were always watching. Yet, it was obvious by the supplies they sent up every week that they wanted them to survive.

And they were surviving, she noted proudly as she stepped out of the Map Room, gaze sweeping around the Glade. They had expanded the Homestead, going so far as to add an upstairs and bedrooms though Grace knew there was no way in hell that there'd ever be enough bedrooms for everybody. Still, most of the Gladers didn't seem to mind sleeping outside in their hammocks, the weather in the Glade was always perfect after all. Grace had been one of the few to even get a bedroom, an almost unanimous decision from everyone but her. She didn't want special treatment because she was a girl, and that was the reason they had insisted on it, feeling that having her in a bedroom would be safer for her than sleeping with all the other boys.

No matter how many times she had pointed out that she had been doing it for weeks with no issue, Nick and the others had refused to relent and Grace had grudgingly agreed.

More important than the bedrooms was the infirmary they had set up, where Tesla was currently, laid up in bed moaning and groaning from the pain. It had been a couple days since he had been stung and everyone was waiting with bated breath for him to finally wake up.

"Think he'll still want to be a runner after he wakes up?" Newt asked suddenly, pausing to look over his shoulder at her. Grace stopped, furrowing her brow slightly at him. _If,_ she wanted to say. _If he wakes up._

Instead she sighed, continuing on past him in the direction of the Homestead. "Would you?" she asked, not waiting for an answer as she pushed open the door to the Homestead, running right into Minho who's face was set into an uncharacteristic grimace.

"Min?" Grace took a step back, looking up at him worriedly. "Tesla is gone." He said.

" _What?"_ Newt asked from behind her, surprise evident in his voice. Minho nodded one, before stepping to the side and ushering them in. "Clint was sorting supplies in the other room and didn't even realize it until I got up there. The shuck-face didn't even know how long Tesla had been gone."

"Shit!" Grace cursed. "We gotta find him. What if he's out there somewhere going crazy like George did." She could just imagine it too, Tesla out in the woods ranting and raving, trying to attack Beetle Blades and falling leaves. As much as she hated to imagine him fighting back like George had done, she knew they couldn't leave him out...wherever he was.

"Find Nick." Newt suggested finally. "We'll get everyone out searching for him. We'll find him. He'll be okay."

* * *

Grace didn't like the woods. There was just something about the trees stretching high and their limbs arching over her head that made her feel more trapped that the Maze ever did. The trees were too close together, too easy for things to hide behind, and with every step she found herself looking around warily.

Not to mention that fact that her potentially crazy friend might be wandering around in here. That certainly might have added to the uneasy feeling she felt.

She gripped a makeshift spear tightly in her hand, having grabbed it before she had even started looking just in case Tesla was out in the woods somewhere going crazy like George had. Somewhere else in the woods, she knew Newt was searching as well, his own hasty weapon gripped in his hand. The boy had suggested they look together but Grace had been quick to point out that this way someone would be more likely to find him sooner.

To her left the creek gurgled merrily, the water glinting in the low lighting, but to her right all she saw was trees and leaves and shrubbery but certainly no Tesla.

Something on the ground made her pause, furrowing her brow as she stooped down to pick up...whatever it was. _A shirt,_ she realized, holding it up in front of her. Blue with strange stains on it that had her unsure whether she even wanted to be touching the thing at all. "Yuck." She muttered, dropping it back to the ground. Still, it seemed familiar and she couldn't help but wonder if it was Tesla's, if he had taken it off at some point and was currently running around shirtless.

If that was the case then Grace really hoped that he had kept his other clothes on. Still, she should probably show the shirt to someone, find out from Clint if this was actually the shirt Tesla was wearing or-

The sound of a twig snapping from behind her had her stiffening, but before she could turn to look, strong hands had grabbed her, one covering her mouth to keep her from calling out for help while the other took advantage of her surprise, knocking the spear from her hand before it wrapped around her middle.

Panic filled her body, making her heart thud quickly in her chest as she tried to best to jerk away from the vice grip the other person had on her. But before she could really even attempt to get away they were forcing her to the left, towards the water.

Everything was happening so fast. _Too fast._

She screamed, the hand covering her mouth muffling the sound as her attacker forced her down to her knees. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest as the grip tightened around her. The hand was removed but before she could scream again her head was forced down, her face submerged in icy cold water.

Oh god. Oh _fuck,_ what was she going to do? What the hell was she going to do? The grip the person had on her felt like a damn gorilla had hold on her, and even as she tried to rear back, tried to struggle free, they kept a firm grip.

How long did it take to drown? Grace didn't know exactly, but she knew that her body would eventually decide that not breathing was killing her and force her to take a breath, hoping it would save her. Water would fill her mouth and lungs. Was this how she was going to die? How would the others find her? Cold and wet and thoroughly, irretrievably dead.

Her lungs were burning, and try as she might to rear back, to get some fucking air, her attacker didn't relent. Her heart pounded so fast in her chest, Grace was sure it was going to burst.

Then, as suddenly as it had all happened, the forceful grip holding her down disappeared and Grace came surging up automatically, sucking in a mouthful of sweet, sweet oxygen. The first thing that she noticed was that she was shaking, her heart still beating wildly, and slowly she turned, afraid of what she would find.

It was Newt that had saved her, she realized instantly. He stood over Tesla's still body, a large rock in hand with Tesla bleeding from his temple. Newt panted, staring down at Tesla with angry brown eyes.

"Newt." His name left her lips as barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to have his attention snapping towards her, relief evident on his face. " _Gracie._ " He crossed over to her, dropping to his knees by her side and pulling her into a hug, obviously not caring that she was soaked.

Her brown hair stuck uncomfortably to her face, and after a moment Newt reached up to push it away, wanting to better see her face. She trembled, eyes stretched wide, still struggling to calm down after what just happened.

"Is he-"

"He's alive. Just knocked out. Are _you_ okay?" He looked imploringly into her eyes, mouth set into a worried frown. They've never been this close, Grace realized. She had never realized that there was a ring of lighter brown lining his pupil, almost the color of caramel.

"He was trying to kill me." She breathed, still staring into his eyes. "And _you_ saved me." She didn't even realize she had been leaning forward, body still trembling from what she could only figure was adrenaline, until she had her lips pressed against his chapped ones. Newt tensed, but did not move away until Grace did a moment later. Newt was looking at her, eyes wide, face red.

And then realization hit her, and she could feel her own face heating up. "Thanks." She said quickly, standing up. "For saving me. But I'm fine." She forced the words out, turning away from him quickly, heart thudding in her chest, though now she was certain it was for an entirely different reason. "We need to uh...tell the others we found him. Get some of them out here to help move him somewhere secure before he wakes up and tries to drown someone else."

"Grace...y'know it's okay if you're _not_ okay." He said. She heard him get to his feet before moving to stand behind her.

But it wasn't okay. Grace knew that with every fibre of her being. She knew that she had to be strong, had to deal with this with strength and poise. The creators were always watching at all. And somehow, some part of her felt that they had planned this. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they had gotten to her. "I know it is." She said. "But I am fine."

Maybe if she said it enough times, it would be true.

* * *

It had just been five of them, sitting around the table in the Map Room, looking at each other with the same sombre expressions on each of their faces. That's all it had taken to make the decision.

Minho had been furious when he had found out what happened, eyes narrowing and hands tightening into fists at his side. It had taken Newt, Alby, and Nick to hold him back from entering to woods to find Tesla himself after Grace had told them what had happened, her chin held have and a steely look in her green eyes.

Nick had sent a group of boys into the woods to collect the hopefully still unconscious Tesla, and the five of them had stolen away to the Map Room to figure out how to deal with this issue. Under the effects of the serum or not, an example had to be made.

But what could they do? There was no standard to compare the effects of the serum to, other that George's and that was painfully limited. They had no way of knowing how long the serum would last or if it would ever wear off. And he had tried killing Grace. They couldn't just keep him around to potentially do it again. And they couldn't let every other Glader believe that it was okay to just go around attempting to murder people.

So they had all agreed that making him leave was the only way. They would banish him out, into the maze, and he would never be welcome back. It had been Minho who suggested it, glaring at the table in silent anger. _Banishment._ Grace had looked at him sharply, green eyes meeting brown. They hadn't said anything for a long moment, before she nodded and said _'I like that idea.'_

What she wanted, what she really, _really_ wanted was to make Tesla feel everything that she had felt. She wanted him to feel his blood pumping through his veins and his lungs burning and his brain working overtime trying to figure out what the hell to do and she wanted him to feel like his heart was going to burst from the fear of it all. _That's_ what she really wanted, and if she couldn't have that, then banishment would have to do.

Her fear had given way to shock and relief and in the end, even that had burned away to sheer anger, so strong that it scared her. Tesla had almost killed her. She could be dead right now, and it was purely luck that he wasn't. Even if it hadn't really been him, that wasn't something Grace could just wash away.

The others had agreed slowly, until only Newt was left, looking very uncomfortable with the whole thing. Yet, after shooting a look at Grace, he too had finally agreed.

And that's how they had gotten to be surrounded in a semi-circle around the west entrance leading into the maze, minutes before it was supposed to close. Tesla was awake now, looking around at everyone like a frightened animal that had been corned. His eyes kept shooting back to Grace, wide and pleading, but she refused to meet his gaze.

The rest of the Gladers hadn't been happy about not being included in the decision making, though in the end they had all grudgingly nodded and assembled before the doors, all of them holding one of the makeshift spears like they had been told. The one in Grace's hand felt sturdy. Comforting. Next time, it would not fall so easily from her grip. Next time she would fight like hell. Her attacker wouldn't find her such an easy target next time.

To her left Minho checked his watch before leaning over to nudge her. "It's time." He said. She nodded simply before leaning over to repeat the words in Newt ear on her right. With a scowl he nodded before turning to say something to Nick. He wasn't happy with the whole thing, not happy with them sending one of their own out into the Maze. He was too kind, Grace knew, too soft and too good. He wasn't meant for things like this. Maybe that's why Grace liked him so much. Because he was still good enough to try to be the conscience even after he had seen Tesla trying to drown her earlier. The kiss from earlier popped into her mind, but Grace pushed the memory down. That had been awkward and ill-timed and she could worry about the backlash of it later. Or...she could just avoid talking about it at all. And she definitely was not going to think about how Newt hadn't pulled away from the kiss.

"Don't feel too bad about what's about to happen Newt." She said suddenly in a low voice, causing him to look at her. "You were outvoted anyway."

He opened his mouth to reply but was cut of by Nick who stepped forward suddenly, towards Tesla.

"Tesla, you stand before us now, ready to receive punishment for the crime of attempted murder. You can try to plead not guilty but...I mean...Grace is _right there_ man. She told us everything. Newt saw you trying to drown her. At this point, you can't really say anything to defend yourself." He paused for a moment, letting those words sink in as he reached up to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It has been decided that your punishment is to be banished into the Maze. And you are never, ever allowed to come back."

Tesla's jaw dropped open as he stared at Nick, no sign of insanity brimming behind those blue eyes of his. No, he was perfectly lucid now. If he hadn't tried to drown her earlier, Grace might even have felt a twinge of pity.

"But-but-"

"EVERYONE FORWARD!" Nick roared suddenly, catching everyone by surprise as he urged them into action. Sure enough they all advanced forward, spears pointing towards Tesla as they had been instructed. He scurried to his feet, moving backwards to avoid the head of their homemade spears, eyes round with fear.

Satisfaction stirred in Grace's chest.

" _Guys!"_ Tesla pleaded, looking around wildly, as if expecting someone to run forward to his defensing. But they kept advancing, and he kept retreating backwards towards the doors. There was a rumbling noise as they started to close slowly behind him, making him visibly jump as he turned to look at them before whipping back to face the other Gladers. "Nobody has ever been out there at night, guys. I could die!"

"Grace could have died earlier." Minho yelled. From the corner of her eye, Grace saw his grip tighten around his spear.

Tesla was almost outside the doors now, moving on his own now to avoid being crushed by the closing doors or impaled by the spears.

"Grace!" He said, suddenly, catching her by surprise. She frowned, narrowing her eyes as she finally met his gaze. His eyes were wide and terrified, tears beginning to well up in the corners. "Grace, _I'm sorry._ "

She couldn't help the sneer that curled her face, making her lip curl and her nose wrinkle slightly. "No you're not," she said. "And neither am I."

The tears finally began to roll down his cheeks as he let out a gut wrenching sob, falling to his knees. That was the last sight Grace got of him before the doors closed.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I really didn't mean for this update to come like...a month after the last one guys. It was an accident. But it was fairly eventful, I think. We have the first banishment, which was fun to right, and a kiss *gasp* which was intended to feel sporadic and a bit awkward. Hopefully this chapter isn't too bad of a read.**

 **It's been sitting mostly finished in my docs for** _ **weeks**_ **but my friend recently made me a beautiful cover for it and I felt inspired to finally finish, so shoutout to Wren who worked her magic to give me something more beautiful than I could ever have imagined. For those of you who don't know, I picture Alycia Debnam-Carey as Grace, which I don't think I've actually mentioned anywhere in the notes for this story (it is on my profile though).**

 **We're gonna start getting bigger and bigger time skips from here on out guys, because about halfway through this story is when events from the books start happening pretty heavily. And, with this chapter we are a quarter of the way done with the story!**

 **Anyway, I appreciate any reviews I get as they do help with motivation for this story and give me an idea of the things you guys want to see, and things you guys are enjoying!**


	7. Dead Weight

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Maze Runner series or any other characters associated with it. However, I do own Grace and any other original characters that might pop up. And similarities to any other works of fanfiction are purely coincidental.**

 **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTER. IF MENTIONS OF SUICIDE MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, THIS IS YOUR OFFICIAL TRIGGER WARNING!**

 **CHAPTER SIX**

" _Human beings, you see, fall apart all the time. In many different ways. That is the central theme. There is no need to disguise it."_

Patrick Somerville, _The Universe in Miniature in Miniature_

Grace didn't keep track of how long they had been in the Maze, not exactly. She left it up to others to count down the days, to lament over how long they had been kept in their prison. No, Grace didn't keep track, but she knew it had been about a year. A year since things waking up in the Glade, ignorant of who she was except for her name.

Things had certainly changed since then.

It was obvious how starkly different they all were every time she returned to the Glade with a sweaty brow and aching limbs. Just looking around, seeing all the boys working like a well-oiled machine was a stark contrast to what they were like not so very long ago. There were jobs and rules, everyone was expected to do their part. And they weren't just surviving, they were _thriving._

Grace allowed her gaze to sweep over the Glade once more before she started jogging towards the Map Room. The sooner she got her map filled out, the sooner she could take a break. And she needed one too, after running all day. She didn't doubt that Newt would rub the fact that he had the day off in her face, as she tended to do to him whenever _she_ had the day off.

Pushing the door to the Map Room open, Grace stepped inside, stretching her arms high over her head as she walked across the room to gather a pencil and a sheet of paper. She wasn't the first one back, she noticed, though that wasn't so unusual. She had gotten good at timing just how long she could spend in the Maze before coming back.

"Find anything today, boys?" She asked casually as she took a seat beside one of the newer runners, a boy named Linus. He looked at her, smiling politely before shaking his head. "Nah, not today." He was tall, at least a head taller than Grace, but scrawny with tan skin and a head of unruly black hair. But he was fast, and had kept up during his training. It had made Grace almost feel bad about arguing with Minho over making him a Runner at all. Not that Linus knew about that.

"Minho isn't back yet?" She asked, looking around the table with a raised brow seeing no sign of her friend's familiar face. This wasn't unusual either. She and Minho were usually among the last ones back.

"Nope." Linus said, shrugging slightly as he finished his map, before standing to put it away. "Is that surprising?"

"Not even a little." She answered without looking up from her paper. She had been doing this for so long now that drawing her section of the Maze took little concentration. She had memorized the patterns now, could run those familiar paths in her sleep. Still, she always took care with her maps, always made sure that everything added up and was cohesive.

When she finally finished, Grace stood, rolling the paper up as she moved to put it away. Most of the others had cleared out, though some were still painstakingly working on their maps.

"Grace!" The door opening with a shout of her name had her whipping around, brows raising in alarm as she took in the sight of Minho standing there panting. "Min?"

He sucked in a deep breath, looking up at her with an unreadable expression on his face. "It's Newt." He said finally. "He's hurt."

* * *

She wasn't exactly sure _how_ Newt had managed to get hurt in the Glade, on his day off, but Grace was less concerned with the how and more concerned with his well being.

She pushed open the front door of the Homestead, immediately heading towards the steps, taking them two at a time as she raced up. Her heart thundered in her chest, worry burning like acid in her throat. If it was something small, Minho wouldn't have rushed to get her, wouldn't have been so panicked. He hadn't had a chance to elaborate before she had taken off, pushing past him in her haste to get to Newt to make sure he was okay.

She didn't bother trying to be quiet as she hurried down the upstairs hallway, swinging the infirmary door open. _"Newt."_ There he was, laying back against the pillows with his eyes closed, the blanket thrown back to reveal one of his legs, heavily wrapped bandaged. The sheet underneath his leg, she noticed, was stained with blood. _What had happened to him?_

Grace didn't stop to look at the others assembled in the room, she just started across the room, dropping down to her knees by Newt's bed.

"Grace…" She didn't turn when she heard Alby say her name softly from behind her, just reached forward to catch Newt's hand in her own. He didn't stir, even as she gripped his hand tightly, as if she was scared he would disappear.

"Grace." Alby said, his voice stronger this time, more demanding. Grace turned her head slightly, frowning. "What?" She asked, her voice quivering slightly. "What happened?"

Alby sighed, bowing his head. "We need to talk." He said. "Come on."

Hesitating slightly, Grace let go of Newt's hand, watching as it fell limply to dangle over the edge of the bed again, before standing and turning to follow Alby out of the room. Nick, Clint, and Jeff all stood off to one side, exchanging similar worried looks and occasionally glancing over to Newt. As she passed Nick looked up at caught her eye, offering her a sad smile.

As they stepped out into the hallway, Grace pulled the door shut behind them before turning to face Alby. "What happened?" She asked again, crossing her arms over her chest. She could try to act stern, could try to be a hardass, but Alby knew her. He would know how worried she was about Newt.

He sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor as he leaned against the wall opposite her. "Newt….he...he tried to kill himself, Grace."

The words hung heavily in the air between them, and for a long time Grace just stared at him, green eyes narrowed and hard as she let those words sink in, suddenly feeling like she might throw up.

"He _what?_ "

It didn't make sense. Why would Newt kill himself? Why would he ever consider doing such a thing? She thought back to the night before, at dinner, when they had sat next to each other like always. He had given her his roll in exchange for her carrots because he knew she hated carrots. He hadn't even _asked_. He had just reached over to take her plate and scraped the vegetables over before placing his roll on the edge of her plate. It was the same thing he always did, and Grace hadn't thought anything about it. She had just offered him a small smile before shooting a snarky comment across the table where Minho was sitting.

And then she thought about their kiss. Their _only_ kiss. Honestly, she thought about it more than she cared to admit, though she had never once brought it up to him. And he hadn't said anything to her about it either. Things had continued on along their normal path and Grace had been left to wonder about it over and over.

"He climbed up the wall, Grace. He just...climbed up and I had to go and drag him back here so Clint and Jeff could take a look at his leg. He was….pretty bad Grace."

"But...why would he-"

"I don't know." Alby said quickly, shaking his head. "He's been out of it since I got him back here. I haven't been able to ask. I don't even know that I should ask him."

She opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs made her stiffen, turning to look just as Minho appeared. "How is he?" He asked, approaching them.

"Asleep." Alby said quickly. "He'll be fine."

Minho sighed, leaning a shoulder against the wall next to Grace, glancing at her quickly before looking back, furrowing his brows in confusion. "Grace?" He asked, startling her. "What's going on?"

"What do you-"

"I know you, Grace." He interrupted her, before she could even get her question out. "Probably better than anybody else in the Glade. I only have to look at your face to know that something is up. If Newt was just okay and in there taking a shucking nap, you wouldn't look like that. So I'm gonna ask again, what's going on?"

His gaze was hard and unrelenting on her, and Grace could feel Alby's eyes on her as well. Did he want her to keep it a secret? If so, why would he even tell her? And anyway, how could Alby expect Grace to lie to her best friend.

Grace felt the words bubbling up in her mouth before she could even stop them, and without even meaning to she blurted out "Newt tried to kill himself."

Minho looked properly shocked at her words, eyebrows raising in surprise as he looked at her. "He what?"

"That's what uh….Alby said." Grace said quickly. Part of her was still refusing to believe it, wanting to believe instead that it was some sort of accident and that Newt had not willingly tried to end his own life.

" _Why?"_

That's what Grace wanted to know. She felt the question welling up inside her. Why would Newt do it? Was life in the Glade really so bad? Yes, they were trapped here, but Grace was confident that they would find the answer one day, that they would be able to find their way out of the Maze. The Maze was _meant_ to be solved.

"We don't know why." Alby said gruffly. "I haven't exactly asked. And when he wakes up, we need to act like everything's normal."

"Everything _isn't_ normal, Alby." Grace sighed, shaking her head. "It just isn't."

"Well then pretend, Grace." he snapped. "You'll just have to pretend."

* * *

 _That,_ as it turned out, was easier said than done.

Sure, with the other Gladers Grace could just force a smile and tell them that Newt had had an accident. The lie tasted bitter on her tongue but she forced it out anyway before going about her business. Dinner was, if anything, an awkward affair, everyone at Grace's table eating silently, the heavy truth hanging over them like smoke.

It wasn't until afterward, when Grace agreed to watch over Newt while Clint and Jeff went to get their own dinner that, that she felt herself falling apart. Sitting there, looking at his still form, it felt suddenly as if the ground beneath her was giving way, crumbling out from underneath her very feet.

Newt shifted in bed and Grace froze, holding her breath and watching as he moved, letting out a groan and then a hiss of pain as he sat up slightly, looking down to see his heavily bandaged leg. Her furrowed his brow, frowning heavily before flopping back against the pillow with a sigh.

And then he must have noticed her, sitting there watching him, face expressionless, green eyes hollow. He sat up again with a start, surprise lighting up his face.

" _Grace."_ Her name, so familiar from his mouth, felt foreign now. This was not the boy that she had grown so close with over their time in the Glade. He was someone different. She wanted _her_ Newt back, the sensitive, kind boy who always looked out for others.

"Alby told me what happened." The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Grace mentally kicked herself. She wasn't supposed to say anything. She was supposed to act like everything was fine and dandy. And maybe, if anyone else had been here she would have. But they weren't and she couldn't.

Newt eyes widened slightly as he stared at her, his face going pale. "He did?"

"Yeah." She stood abruptly, making Newt jump in surprise as she knocked her chair back, turning to pace away, to the other side of the room. But she couldn't look at him right now. All of the emotions were bubbling up inside of her, boiling over. She was upset, God she was so upset. Why would Newt ever feel the need to _kill_ himself? But more than that she was angry, livid even. He was just going to _off_ himself? Had he known that he was going to do it? Had he planned it? And if so, for how long? Had he been so willing to just leave everyone, all of his friends, behind?

"Where was my shucking goodbye, Newt?" She asked finally, her voice quiet but still plainly audible in the silent room. "You decide to jump off the damn wall, to hell with the rest of us, huh?"

"Grace I-"

"No!" She cut him off, her voice too loud in the silence as she stomped her foot, still refusing to face him. "I don't want to hear any explanations. Or apologies. I wasn't even worth a goodbye Newt. And I don't want to hear whatever reasoning you came up with that was good enough for what you did!"

The sound of footsteps racing up the stairs startled her, making her realize with a start that there were people just downstairs, able to hear her just fine. She sucked in a breath before starting towards the door, still determinedly not looking at him.

"Grace," Newt called from behind her, his voice sounding absolutely pitiful. "I'm sorry."

"Stop Newt." She said, pausing, her hand hovering over the doorknob. She couldn't be here right now, not in the same room as him. "Just stop."

She threw the door open, revealing a surprised Alby. He looked past her, at Newt sitting on the bed, before looking down at Grace, his face quickly contorting into one of anger. "Grace-" he started, but she pushed past him, not sparing him a second glance as she started down the hall towards the stairs. "Shut up Alby."

* * *

She didn't like being in the woods, not anymore. Not since what happened with Tesla. She shivered, thinking back to that day. It was strange to think that it had been so long ago. Some nights she still woke up from nightmares about drowning, with water forcing its way into her mouth and lungs. Between her nightmares of water and fire, it seemed that Grace didn't stand a chance for a good night sleep.

That wasn't entirely true of course. She didn't always have nightmares, after all, and most night she slept just fine. But in the face of something bad, it was easy to forget about the good things. In any case, on the occasions that Grace did have a dream that she remembered (or sort of remembered) upon waking, it was usually a nightmare, and usually about one or the other.

Grace sighed, leaning her head back against the trunk of the tree, staring out into the darkness. She didn't like being in the woods, but she figured this was the last place anyone would come looking for her. She didn't particularly want to get scolded, not by Alby or anyone else, though she had calmed down enough now to realize that she probably deserved it.

She had been acting like a real shank, she knew that. Newt didn't need to be yelled at, he needed support. And she should have been the first one there to give it to him. Instead she had gotten angry, had _yelled_ at him. Shame burned white hot beneath her skin. She wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to talk to her again.

Maybe, she thought, she could just stay in the Dead Heads forever. This could be where she lived now, like some sort of wild girl, eating twigs and tree bark to stay alive and hiding if anybody came looking for her. Grace couldn't help but snort slightly at the ridiculous thought. As if she would ever actually attempt something like that. And anyway, Minho would march his way into the woods and drag her ass out if she stayed hidden for too long, she knew that for a fact.

Grace stifled a yawn, shifting to sit more comfortably against the tree. Just a little while longer, she decided. She'd give everyone the chance to go to sleep so she could slip up to her room unnoticed. And in the morning she would get up and be ready to leave before anyone could stop her. And when she got back...when she got back she would go and tell Newt how sorry she was and how much of an ass she had been. Yes, that's what she would do.

She yawned and closed her eyes and the world fell away.

* * *

 _This time, it is not a nightmare._

 _She is younger, in the dream, maybe thirteen or so and dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, her pajamas. Her hair is in two long braids, bouncing with each step she takes. She's sneaking, trying to be subtle, trying to keep from being caught._

 _Of course, deep down she knows that they know where she is. They always know._

 _She turns sharply down a hallway before immediately turning again, opening the door to a janitorial closet, a different one that they usually meet the others in. It is sheathed in shadows as she steps inside, but Grace can make out a familiar lanky figure who stands to greet her when she enters._

 _She closes the door behind her silently and steps further in, her heart picking up speed in her chest. The others don't know, they'd make fun of them if they knew._

" _You're late," his familiar accented voice says, making her scoff._

" _I'm not." She replies. "You're just early." That's a lie, she is late but she wanted to be sure nobody had followed her. Not that anyone was likely to. She had her own room, didn't have to worry about anybody hearing her get up to leave. In fact, Newt should have been the one who was late. He had all the others to worry about._

 _Her eyes are adjusting to the dark, enough that she can see the soft smile stretched across his face as he shifts closer. Her heart flops and she smiles back._

" _I missed you." He says suddenly. Grace laughs. "You saw me at dinner Newt. That was only a few hours ago."_

" _You're a girl. I thought you were supposed to like it when I say stuff like that." She can't tell exactly but it looks like he's pouting. She laughs again. "If you're trying to butter me up, Newt, giving me your desert would always help. Not that you need much help. I already kinda like you."_

" _Only kinda?" He steps forward and she steps back, slipping around him with a sly grin._

" _Only sorta."_

 _He turns to face her, catching her by surprise as he reaches out to poke her in her side, eliciting a sharp squeak from her as she squirms away, slapping her palm over her mouth as she looks up at him wide-eyed making him laugh. "Newt," she scolds. "We're supposed to be hiding. Don't make me do that."_

" _You squeaked," he defended. "It was cute."_

 _She scowls and childishly sticks her tongue out at him. "It wasn't."_

" _Yes it was. You're always cute Grace." He says honestly. She is glad it's dark so that he can't see her the blush that she can feel spread across her cheeks. "Stoooop." She insists, her voice a whine as she ducks her head._

 _Newt chuckles, stepping close as he reached down, using a finger to push her chin up. "Nah, Gracie. I like embarrassing you."_

 _He's standing close, she realizes, really close and he isn't moving away. Grace can't breath ash she looks up at him, heart catching in her throat as his eye meets hers. She licks her lips and he notices, his gaze dropping to her mouth. And then he is leaning forward and Grace knows what is about to happen, she knows and she has thought about this moment more than she would care to admit. She raises onto the tips of her toes, wanting to meet his mouth with hers. What will it be like, she can't help but wonder. As nice as she had hoped?_

 _She sucks in a breath, eyes fluttering shut as they-_

Her eyes fluttered open, only to be met with the shadowy shapes of brush all around her. She felt very warm, heart still hammering in her chest. That had been one hell of a dream, though if she was being honest it felt familiar, almost as if it were something lost that had been returned to her?

A memory? If so, then Grace had no doubt that it was an important one. That had definitely been Newt in her dream, and they were younger, hardly more than children. And they had been... _Grace had to tell Newt._

She stood suddenly, ignoring the ache in her back from falling asleep against a tree before taking off, rushing through the trees and brush towards the homestead. It was still dark, the Gladers all having gone to bed. Probably she was the only one awake now, which was all the better for her. She didn't really want anybody else around to witness this. But it was so important, and Newt had to know right away.

She got to the homestead, pushing the front door open slowly. She knew she couldn't exactly rush inside, with its creaky floorboards. Someone could hear her, and if it was Alby then Grace was half convinced that he would try to stop her from even seeing Newt after the ordeal today.

She moved carefully, quietly, across the main room and up the stairs. It was dark in the homestead, and peaceful, everyone having retired to their beds. Would Newt be asleep, she wondered. Would she have to wake him up? Would he even want to talk to her? God, Grace hoped so, hoped that he would at least give her the chance to apologize.

She paused outside the door to the infirmary, hesitating for a moment, before pushing the door open.

Newt was stretched out on the bed, his leg elevated on a couple of pillows. It was too dark to make out much else which might have been for the best. Grace wasn't sure that she wanted to see Newt's face when she apologized and then told him about her dream.

"Newt," She said softly as she sat down on the edge of his bed, careful not to jostle his leg. "Newt." She repeated, firmer this time as she reached out to nudge him.

"Grace?" He groaned softly, sounding surprised.

"Yeah. Sorry to wake you. I needed to talk to you."

He groaned again, before shifting to sit up slightly against his pillows. "What's goin' on?" He asked sleepily.

Oh God. It had been so easy to tell herself logically that she needed to apologize, but now Grace was sitting there with Newt and the time was _now_ and she couldn't figure out what to say. Maybe she should have waited a moment to figure that out before she came rushing in here.

"I'm sorry," she blurted finally, before groaning, dropping her head into her hands. That certainly was not the graceful apology that she had wanted to give. "For earlier." Grace clarified. "I was...out of line. You needed someone to support you, not _yell_ at you. You needed a friend, and I couldn't even be that. So...I'm sorry. I was being selfish and stupid, thinking about how…. _I_ felt. I didn't even stop to think about how you feel." Once the words really started to flow, it was like she couldn't get them to stop, her throat burning with emotion. "I didn't even tell you that the most important thing to me was that you're still here, that I didn't lose you. And I should have said that, Newt. I'm so glad that you're still here." She went quiet, the silence settling heavily between them as she waited for him to say something. Had he fallen back asleep?

"Grace...it's okay." Newt said quietly.

"But it's not," she insisted, reaching out, trailing her hand across the bed searching for his. She finally found it, linking her fingers with his. "And I came here to tell you something else, Newt. I had a dream. I...think it was a memory. Of me. Of _us._ From before we were sent here. We were _something_ Newt. I...that's not really important. What _is_ important is that I care about you Newt. That I've _always_ cared about you. And whatever you're going through...whatever caused you to do what you did...I'm here to help you deal with that too."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Let me first start by saying that I absolutely do not condone Grace's reaction to what Newt did. It was insensitive and her initial reaction in no way reflects how I think the issue should be treated.**

 **That being said, Grace did see the fault in her actions once she pulled her head out of her ass. So sorry if anyone was upset she was acting like a jerk.**

 **I'm sorry this chapter took so long, and sorry for yet another time skip. There will be a few more still, but at the halfway point is when all the massive time skips will stop. I do intend to start a oneshot series for this story to help fill in a lot of the blanks and help to build up on other relationships!**


	8. Made to Suffer

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Maze Runner series or any other characters associated with it. However, I do own Grace and any other original characters that might pop up. And similarities to any other works of fanfiction are purely coincidental.**

 **CHAPTER SEVEN**

" _Be not sick too late, nor well too soon."_

Benjamin Franklin

" _Bloody hell!"_

Grace couldn't help but snort slightly as she watched Newt flop back gracelessly onto his bed, letting out a groan of frustration as he laid there for a long moment, just staring at the ceiling, allowing the new crutches to slip from his grip. "That's it," he said with a tone of finality. "I'll just never leave my bed. I'll stay in here forever."

This wasn't the first time Newt had fallen, and Grace was fairly certain it wouldn't be the last. The crutches were proving difficult to master, throwing Newt off balance and leaving him in predicaments like this.

"You won't." She assured, moving so she could peer down at him, grinning. "Clint already said you won't be restricted to these things _forever._ Just until your leg gets all nice and healed. You'll be able to walk without them, Newt. _Then_ you won't fall over as much. Wanna try again?"

Grace had learned pretty quickly that skirting around the issue of his injured leg frustrated Newt even more, and so she had decided to act like it was no big deal. Newt didn't want anybody treating him like something made of glass, he had told her. He just wanted everyone to act normal. So she had, the others quickly following her lead and going about their lives as if this was normal.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Help me get on my feet and we can walk down to get dinner?" He suggested, sitting up and placing a hand on her shoulder to help stabilize himself as he started to stand.

"Good that." Grace placed an arm firmly around him, helping to haul him to his feet before swooping down to retrieve his crutches, handing them over. "Gally did a pretty good job on them at least, right?"

"Yeah," Newt agreed, taking a cautious step forward, Grace watching warily in case he started to tip backwards again. "Least I'm not gettin' splinters in my armpits. Remind me to thank him."

"I'll help you compose a really nice 'thank you' letter for him." She said with a grin before clearing her throat. "Dear Gally, thank you for the really beautiful crutches that sort of help me walk around. They're really amazing and you are equally amazing. Where would I be without your top notch crutch making skills, and I truly cannot repay the debt of this favor. I pledge my life and servitude to you. Love, Newt."

Newt snorted slightly, shaking his head. "Nah, I think that'd be laying it on pretty thick." He said. "Let's go with something more subtle."

"Subtle?" She raised a brow. "Yeah, I can do subtle." She lowered her voice, making it sound almost like a grunt as she said a said a simple "Thanks bro."

"What's that voice supposed to be?" Newt asked with a laugh, making Grace shrug slightly. "It was supposed to sound like a guy." She told him. He laughed again. "Sorry, that didn't quite come across."

Grace sent a playful glare in his direction, before slipping forward quickly to open the door to the room, pausing as she glanced back to keep an eye on him. Slowly but surely, Newt made his way towards her, his movements with the crutches restricted and it was obvious he was being overly careful for fear of falling again. Grace was dreading attempting to go down the stairs, but she knew it was something Newt felt like he needed to do. He wanted to be part of everything, not shut up in his room like some sort of recluse.

Grace wished suddenly that Alby was upstairs helping. He would be a lot more help getting down the stairs, she decided, because if Newt suddenly tipped forwards she wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to hold his weight to keep him from falling. He would have to be extra careful with the precarious descent down the staircase. Of course, she thought as she watched him, he already knew that.

"Any idea what's for dinner?" He asked as he passed her, stepping out into the hallway and leaving her to follow. "Roast beef." She said. "I talked Frypan into making it a few days ago." In truth, hardly a week went by without Grace attempting to talk Frypan into making her favorite meal, he rarely gave in, but he had been feeling generous the day before and besides, Grace had reasoned, it always made for good sandwiches for the runners in the few days following.

"Poor Frypan, always getting bullied into making food for you." Grace scoffed at Newt's words, flicking him lightly in the back of the head. "I don't bully anyone, shuck-face." She said with a laugh. He glanced back at her with a slight grin, before turning back, pausing when he reached the staircase. His shifted, adjusting his crutches so he could grip them tighter before taking a deep breath.

"Hey, you got this." Grace told him as she stepped up beside him. His grin had vanished, she noticed, and had been replaced with a frown as he stared down the staircase. "Yeah," he breathed, eyes round, expression nervous before he took his first careful step forwards.

It was slow going, waiting for Newt to work his way down the stairs, Grace always staying right behind him, just in case, green eyes attentive as she looked for any sign that he was going to suddenly tumble forward. Finally though, he reached the base of the stairs and visibly sighed with relief.

"Not looking forward to going back up them." He told her, staring back up the stairs. Grace smiled. "Hopefully then Alby will be around to help. Make the whole thing a little faster."

"Hopefully." Newt echoed, before starting forward on his crutches again, heading out of the Homestead. Grace trailed behind him, watching for any signs he was going to fall. This was the first time he was leaving the Homestead after what happened, his leg causing too much irritation for him to even attempt it. Clint had offered to fix him up a place down stairs but Newt had argued, saying he would prefer to sleep upstairs, in his own room, in his own bed. Grace couldn't blame him, and after a long while of arguing Clint had agreed as long as Newt didn't try to come downstairs until he was given the okay.

Clint had been very attentive, as far as Newt's leg injury was concerned, and had been taking great care to show Jeff, the newest med-jack, how to properly care for that. Newt would never be a Runner again, Clint had told Minho and Grace. Instead he would be limited to finding a new job inside the Glade. When his leg had healed of course.

To be honest, Grace didn't think Newt minded too terribly about not being able to run in the Maze ever again. He hadn't been to keen on the job in the first place, and Grace was certain that he did the job more because he felt obligated to do so.

Sweeping her gaze across the Glade, Grace was unsurprised to find it mostly deserted, everyone probably already eating dinner. Which was just fine. If Newt _did_ fall, he wouldn't want everyone around to see it.

He was moving determinedly towards the Mess Hall, pushing his way in side with Grace following a moment later. The usual buzz of conversation that surrounded dinnertime immediately ceased, all eyes landing on Newt as a hush fell over the Gladers. Newt shifted awkwardly, adjusting his crutches.

"Hey." He said finally, raising a hand in a simple wave. Stepping up beside him, Grace glanced around at the others, narrowing her eyes at them until the majority of them looked away. "I'll go get our food." Grace told Newt, offering him a smile before hurrying to the dwindling line, catching Frypan's eye and gesturing over to where Newt was hobbling over to their usual table. "Look who dragged himself out here." She said. "All because he heard we were having Pot Roast tonight."

Frypan fixed her with a look, smirking slightly. "Oh is that why he's down here? My infamous Pot Roast?" He asked, spooning some carrots onto another boy, Louis', plate. "Oh yeah." Grace said casually. "He could smell it from his room. Practically floated on air down here."

"Maybe I should just give him the rest then. You wouldn't mind, would you Grace?"

"You can give him the rest over my cold, dead body." She joked, watching as Frypan loaded the two plates in her hands down with food. Offering him a grateful smile, Grace turned and headed over to the others, setting Newt's plate down in front of him before sitting beside him in her usual space, Minho across from her and Nick on her other side.

"Grace," Minho greeted. "Newt was just telling us how you carried him bridal style down the stairs."

She snorted, raising a forkful of food to her mouth, taking her time to chew and swallow before answering. "Yep." She said casually. "That's how strong I am."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Newt grab her plate casually, scraping the carrots onto his before replacing them with his roll. Smiling slightly, she brushed her shoulder against his. There was no denying the dynamic between them had changed, though in what way Grace wasn't sure. They _felt_ like more than friends, but she had nothing upon which to compare their current relationship. But it was fine, she was comfortable, and whatever they had, it was nice.

A harsh coughing from her right startled her, making her look at Nick in surprise to see him coughing into his hand, the act itself wracking his thin body. She furrowed her brow slightly in worry, reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder.

"You good?" She asked, when the coughs finally subsided and he reached forward to take a drink from his water. He nodded slightly. "Yeah," Nick rasped. "I've just been coughing all day."

"Are you catching a cold?" Newt asked, peering past her at him. Nick shrugged.

"I don't know. I don't feel-" Another series of coughs cut him off, making him reach up to cover his mouth again as Grace rubbed his back slightly, looking at the other boys in concern. "Go get Clint." She advised Alby who nodded and stood, hurrying away to the table where Clint and Jeff sat with a couple of other boys.

Reaching up to lay a hand across Nick's forehead, Grace frowned. He was _burning up._ But without a thermometer there was no way for her to tell how bad his temperature was. "What's going on?" Clint asked, walking up behind Nick with Jeff trailing after him. Alby stood at the head of the table, eyes on Nick. "He's sick." Grace explained quickly. "A cold maybe. I don't know."

"Hmm...come on Nick. Let's get you up to the infirmary." Clint advised. Nick managed a nod despite the fierce coughing and stood. He had gathered the attention of many of the Gladers, Grace saw, most of them looking at their leader with mixed expressions of confusion and concern.

When the coughing finally subsided, Nick pulled his hand away, taking a deep breath, his eyes watering. Grace frowned, standing up when something caught her eye. She reached out, snagging Nick's wrist and turning it so she could inspect his hand, eyes widening when she saw that it was stained with blood.

By the next night, ten other Gladers had fallen sick, Nick's illness proving to be worse than a regular cold.

Clint had limited them all to bottom floor of the Homestead, hanging up sheets to hide them away while he and Jeff worked to figure out what was wrong with them. Of course, Grace didn't find any of this out until she had returned from her run in the Maze and finished her map, tucking it away and leaving to find Minho and Alby huddled together in deep conversation. They had told her then, Alby speaking in a low voice as he gestured towards the Homestead. He was trying his very best to be discreet, but if ten Gladers had gotten sick people would notice them missing. They'd start asking questions and it wouldn't _stay_ secret for very long.

Still, things could have been worse, Grace decided but it wasn't until the following morning that the true gravity of the situation struck her when she caught Minho coughing in the Map Room, leaning against the wall for support as he covered his mouth.

She froze in the doorway, eyes stretching wide as she watched him for a moment, her stomach dropping. _Not Minho,_ she thought. _Please, not Minho._

She started towards him, the panic starting to rise but he caught sight of her, gesturing for her to stop. Grace hesitated, furrowing her brow as she stared at her friend who could only shake his head at her, still coughing. When they finally subsided he took a deep breath, wiping his mouth on his sleeve before looking up at her. "Stay over there," he instructed. "I don't want you to get sick too."

"Minho…" she started. He looked very pale, she noticed, just like Nick had. There was no denying it, Minho was definitely sick.

"I'm gonna go see Clint," he told her, his voice raspy. "And you need to get into the Maze. You do still have a job to do, Grace."

A job to do? How the hell could he expect her to do _that_ when he was laid up in bed sick all day with an illness that they didn't know the first thing about? How was she supposed to focus when her best friend was sick and miserable and she couldn't do anything to stop it?

"Finding a way out is more important, Grace." He said, his voice more serious than she was used to hearing. She furrowed her brow, shaking her head. "We've been searching since we got here Minho, what are the chances that we'll find a way out toda-"

"And what if today is the _only_ day that you can?" He asked, though from the look on his face he wasn't really expecting an answer. "Look," he added. "I'll be fine. Just make sure the other shanks do their jobs okay?"

"I _know_ what to do, Minho." She snapped. "I've been doing it just as long as you. So why can't I send them out and then stay to-"

"No." He interrupted again, making her narrow her eyes. "There's nothing you can do here, Grace. Last time I checked, you're not a med-jack and-" He was cut off mid-sentence by the terrible body wracking coughs again. The door creaking open behind Grace had her spinning around, eyes widening almost as if this whole thing was meant to be a secret. Linus stood in the doorway, two other runners trailing behind him. His eyes widened as he stared past her at Minho. Sucking in a deep breath, she ushered them away. "Move," she ordered. "He needs to get to the Homestead to see Clint and none of us need to get sick." Casting one last look back at Minho she stepped outside with them, a heavy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

By the time Grace arrived back that evening, only minutes before the doors were meant to close for the night, chaos had ensued. Her heart rose in her throat as she looked around the Glade. Usually, around this time, most of the boys were finishing up their jobs and getting ready to head to dinner. Not today though. There were far fewer Gladers than she was used to milling around, and even then, none of them were _working._

Standing there for a long moment, Grace was torn between heading to the Map Room to draw up her section of the Maze or finding someone and being told just what the hell was going on. _Map first,_ she decided with a sigh, before jogging in the direction of the Map Room. It had been a long day, but less because of the Maze, that was exactly how it was supposed to be based on the schedule she and Minho had figured out once they had started noticing patterns and compared maps some months prior. No, she had been filled with a nagging worry all day. She wanted to return to the Glade, to find out what she could. But most of all she wanted to know that Minho was okay. Her worry over her best friend had been consuming her all day, and she had hardly noticed the Maze around her while running.

Pushing open the door to the Map Room, she was surprised to find the other runners milling around talking instead of filling in their map. "I think we can find something better to do with our time, boys." She said as she stepped inside, giving them all a stern look as she received her paper and pencil. She was here, ready to do her job despite everything that was going on, it was the least they could do.

"We were just talking." One of the boys, Wash, said. "If Minho dies do you become the leader of the Runners?"

She froze, sending him a fierce glare that made him visibly recoil. "Minho and I are co-leaders." She reminded him. "And _nobody_ is going to die. So shut your shank mouth!"

Wash opened his mouth to argue, dark eyes blazing as he stared at her. "It was a fair question." Linus said evenly, stepping between them. His tone was cool, steady. "I mean...don't you think we should know, Grace? Think logically."

"There's nothing to know, shuck-face!" She growled, sitting down to begin aggressively drawing her section of the map. "Minho is going to be just fine! So is everyone else. Now can you all just please sit down and do your shucking job!"

Silence followed her outburst, the boys all staring at her as she hurried to finish her map. Nobody was going to die. Not a single goddamn person was going to die, least of all Minho.

"Grace, I-"

"No!" She snapped, standing up as soon as her, admittedly, messily drawn map was finished and refusing to look at anybody, least of all Linus who was the one that had spoken in the first place. "Get those maps drawn. I won't tell you again." Her words were cold, expression dangerous, and not a single one of them said another word as she put the map away before returning her weapons to the chest where they belonged. Without looking at any of them she stepped outside, immediately jogging towards the Homestead.

"Grace!" Her hand hovered over the doorknob as her name was called. She turned to see Alby approaching her, Newt hobbling along after him on his crutches. Relief flooded through her when she saw that the two of them weren't sick. That was something, at least.

"Can't go in there." Alby told her. "They're quarantined."

"I'm sorry, _what?_ "

Where most of the boys in the Glade withered under her intense glares, Alby never had and now was no exception. He squared his shoulders, tightening his jaw and giving her a curt nod. "Clint's orders. He's sick too. Even Jeff isn't allowed in there."

"But Minho-"

"Grace," Newt said gently. "It's Minho. He'll be fine. And we don't need anyone else getting sick."

"But I-"

"Grace, _no._ " Alby said sternly. "Nobody is allowed in. That's that." With that he turned to walk away, Newt sending her a lingering apologetic look before turning to start after him, leaving Grace feeling angry and dejected and annoyed. "Fine," she muttered, though nobody was around to hear her. "I'll figure out something else."

 _Dear Creators,_

 _Look, I know we're in here for whatever reason and you shanks are enjoying playing god out there or whatever but in case you haven't noticed, the Homestead is full of sick people. I don't know if you sent the sickness, and the be honest I don't really care. We need medicine. Like...really need it. If these boys die that's all on you and I know the threat doesn't seem like much now but if they die when I get out of here, I will make you regret it. So...do whatever you have to do. Send in medicine or instructions on how to fix them or...hell send in a goddamn doctor. Just don't let them die. Please._

She stared at the paper in her hands for a long time, reading it and then re-reading it before finally sighing and folding it up into a small square before dropping it into the boxhole, watching it flutter down before it disappeared completely from her view. It wasn't the first time a request had been made to the Creators, though they didn't always answer requests. But Grace hoped they did this time. She really, really did.

Turning away from the Boxhole, she headed towards the Homestead again, slipping a hand into her pocket to toy with the second note she had written. This one wasn't for the Creators, it was for Minho and she didn't have to reread it to remember what she had written down in her messy scrawl.

 _Get better. Don't die._

She had stared at the paper for what had felt like forever, just staring at it, trying to figure out what to say to her best friend. The note was fine in its simplicity, but there was so much _more_ she wanted to say. She wanted to tell him that she missed him, never mind the fact that she had seen him that morning. She wanted to tell him that he had to get better because whenever they found the way out, she wasn't sure it would even be worth it without him. But she couldn't say anything of those things, couldn't figure out the words to write down.

Sighing, she stopped in front of the door leading into the Homestead, pulling the note out before stooping down to slide it beneath the door. Hopefully somebody would notice it and give it to him. Standing, she gave the door one last lingering look before turning and walking away.

She wasn't sure if it was worry or just not being used to sleeping in the hammocks but either way, Grace hadn't been sleeping very well when she heard Jeff's voice, urging Alby awake a few hammocks down from her. Green eyes fluttered open as she leaned up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Newt lay asleep in the hammock next to hers, dead to the world, crutches leaning against a nearby post, and on her other side, Linus was snoring softly.

"What's going on?" She asked softly, rolling out of the hammock to stand, approaching Alby and Jeff so she could try and avoid waking anybody else. Her eyes flicked to the Homestead, worry creasing her face when she saw all the lights downstairs on. Shouldn't they all have been resting? The sun was starting to light up the sky but still, not even Runners got up this early, and there was no reason for any of those who had been quarantined to be awake.

Alby yawned widely, looking at Jeff tiredly, not quite registering the look of worry on their friends face. "Yeah man," he said. "What's going on."

"Niels is dead."

" _What?"_ Alby spluttered, fully awake now as he stood. Grace's eyes widened as she exchanged a look with her friend. Niels had been one of the youngest boys in the Glade, small and scrawny with a head of wild blonde hair and brown eyes. He had been, at the most, fourteen, and had only arrived three months prior. He had been assigned a slopper, and had also been one of the first boys to fall sick, according to Newt and Alby.

"There was a note outside the door when I went to leave food outside a few minutes ago." Jeff explained hurriedly. "Clint doesn't know what else to do. We _need_ medicine, or more people will die."

"Well we just have to depend on the Creators for that." Alby huffed. "We can't pull medicine out of our butts."

"And that's what we tell everybody else?" Grace asked, raising a brow at Alby as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Like 'Hey guys, we're kind of stuck on what to do. A bunch of us might die.' That is _not_ going to go over well, Alby."

"We don't tell them anything." Alby said quickly, glancing at the sleeping Gladers around them. "We wait and see what happens. And we can't move the body until we have some sort of solution. I don't want anybody else to get sick."

"And now they have to stay in there with some poor dead shank? Things just keep getting worse and worse."

"Well there isn't much else we can do, Grace!" Alby snapped, glaring at her. She sighed, reluctantly nodding. "Yeah," she said. "I know." It didn't make her like it anymore though, and she definitely didn't like thinking about poor Minho and Nick stuck in there with a dead kid that they couldn't do anything with.

"As soon as those doors open, I want you and the rest of the Runners out there." Alby added. "We need to keep everything running as normal as possible." With a heavy sigh, Grace nodded. As much as she wanted to stay in the Glade to day, to be there in case the worst happened, she knew she couldn't. Alby wouldn't let her for one thing, and Minho would kick her ass for sure if he got better. _When,_ she corrected herself. _Not if._

 _Nick was dead._

Three days later, six other boys dead, and the last to go was Nick. _Lucky number seven my ass,_ she thought bitterly as she watched Jeff enter the Homestead for the first time in _days._ The supplies had come up that morning, right on schedule, and with the usual supplies came the medicine she had asked for. Medicine that had come too late.

Nick was dead, and there was nothing any of them could do.

She lingered outside of the Map Room, where she had retreated when Alby had pulled her aside, expression solemn as he told her quietly of Nick's death. Alby was leader now, that went without saying, and Grace couldn't quite decide if she thought that was good or bad. Still, he had asked her and Newt to be his sort of second-in-commands and at least this way she could help with making decisions. None of it felt right though, and a truly somber feeling had settled over the Glade.

Graves had to be dug, Grace knew, and Alby was overseeing that in the Deadheads. She had tried to slip into the Homestead to see Minho but Jeff had advised her not too, turning her away and leaving her unsure of what to do. She _wanted_ to see Minho, wanted to see him with her own eyes to make sure he was actually okay. She wanted him to tease her for worrying. Only then would she be able to relax.

"Everything's going to be okay, y'know." The sound of the familiar voice made her turn her gaze from the Homestead to Newt, who was looking at her with a sort of sad smile on his face. She leaned against the doorframe of the Maproom, raising a brow at him.

"I'm not worried." She said simply.

"You are," he argued. "Can't lie to me Gracie. You had that look on your face."

"What look?" Grace asked, raising a brow at him. He snorted slightly, shaking his head with a sigh. "The "I'm thinking too hard about something' look. You and Alby both have one. But things _are_ going to be okay."

"Are they?" She bit her lip, turning her gaze back towards the Homestead. "We were helpless against the sickness. If the Creators hadn't sent up medicine we all could have-"

"But we didn't." He cut her off. "And we won't. If the Creators wanted us dead, we'd probably be dead, Gracie." He added. "But we're still here, for whatever reason. And they still need us."

"What a comforting thought." Grace muttered dryly. Newt rolled his eyes. "It wasn't meant to be. Now come on, we have a funeral to go to."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay so this chapter took a little longer than I wanted, but in my defense it would have been out days ago if google docs had only participated. But in any case here it is,** _ **finally,**_ **and with this chapter we lose a very important character. I know Nick's death was sort of anti-climatic, it was meant to be. I should say that I definitely do like Nick, he was a cool guy but obviously he had to die.**

 **Obviously I can't touch on every major event that happens leading up to Thomas entering the Maze, which will be happening in only a few chapter just so you guys know, but I do have the oneshot companion series to this one posted and will be adding to that gradually as time goes on. Anyway, what did you guys think of this chapter? I'm going to try to get the next one out sooner, but I'm also trying to figure out a schedule for writing fics and unfortunately, try as I might, I just can't write a short and quick chapter.**


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